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EDWARD A. PAULTON. 








The American 


raust 


1 1 kis! ratio AS. 
Eksergian 


YORK 

BELFORD COMPANY, PUBLISHERS 





18-22 East i8th Street 


[l\iblishers of Bel ford's Magazine\ 


The Belford American Novel Series. No. 14. Annual Subscription, $. 5 00. Issued weekly. 
Entered at the New York Post Office as second class matter, Sept. 1, '890- 



THE AMERICAN FAUST 








THE AMERICAN FAUST 


BY 

EDWARD A. PAULTON 

y\ 



NEW YOKE 

BEDFORD COMPANY, PUBLISHERS 
18-22 East 18th Street 
[P ublishers of Belford's Magazine.] ^ 




Copyright, 1890, by 

BELFORD COMPANY 


CONTENTS, 


Page 

Pkeface, ....... 7 

Chap. 

I.— In Which History avails Itself of a Time- 

honored Custom, and Repeats Itself, 9 

II. — In Which Satan, Being Anxious for a Deal, 

Concedes Much and Signs a Contract, 20 

III. — In Which the Devil takes his first Rail- 

way Journey, . . . . .32 

IV. — In Which Mephisto Witnesses the Opera 

“ Faust,” and the Story Takes a Seri- 
ous Turn, . . . . .46 

V.— In Which Tann Poses as a Friend of Man, 

AND Meets the Just Reward of Hypoc- 
risy, . . . . . .62 

VI. —In Which Tann Becomes an Equestrian, 

AND HAS A Fall, . . . . ’ 78 

VII. — In Which Tann Visits an Art Gallery, . 92 

VIII. — In Which S. A. Tann has a Difficulty 

. WITH THE Police, .... 101 
IX. — In Which Three of the Dramatis Person(E 
Shake the Dust of Europe from Their 
Shoes; and Sadler, After Deriding 
the Separist Powers of Distance, 
Treats Franklin to an Aerial Flight, 112 
X. — In Which S. A. Tann Commences the 
Assault, and is Repulsed with Consid- 
erable Loss, ..... 124 
XL— In Which we Shift the Scene to N. T., 

U. So, AND Our Heroine Becomes an 
Adopted Sister, .... 139 


6 


CONTENTS, 


XII.— In Which we View the Inner Life of a 

Harem, . . . . . .150 

XIII.— In Which Sadler Tries to Outdo Schehera- 
zade, AND Finds it Necessary to Work 
A Miracle, ' . . . . ,166 

XIY.— In Which Sadler A. Tann sees London Life, 

AND Moralizes Thereon, , . .176 

XV.— In Which Leonard Becomes an American in 
Earnest, and Arranges to Become a 
Benedict, . . . . .194 

XVI.— In Which S. A. Tann Holds a Committee 
Meeting, and has a Lively Time Gen- 
erally, ..... 207 

XVII.— In Which the Header Gets Considerably 

More Than He Expects, . . . 222 

XVIII.— In Which Miss Woods is at Home, . . 231 

XIX. — In Which the Temptation of St. Anthony is 

Revived For Our Hero’s Benefit, . 242 

XX.— In Which Sadler A. Takes Leave of This 

Mortal Sphere, .... 248 


PKEFACE 


The facts herein related gain in importance from the 
unique position held by one of the chief participants ; 
and the gentleman I refer to must be my excuse for 
throwing this history into the market. To very few 
of us is it given to have intimate intercourse and 
daily companionship with beings of the other world ; 
therefore must I be forgiven any boastful feelings 
which my friendship with the spiritual powers may 
breed within me. 

Sadler A. Tann, who, unless you have deferred the 
reading of the preface until you have perused the 
book, is as yet unknown to you, was, as far as my 
judgment goes, a most estimable gentleman and a 
worthy fellow in every way. His unvarying good- 
humor and honest simplicity made him a favorite 
with all of US; and as the reader will observe, the few 
contemptible actions he attempted were in direct 
opposition to his chivalrous nature, and actuated 
solely by a sense of duty ; which, let the duty be ever 
so ignoble, is a decidedly commendable sentiment. 

Mr. Elliott, whose real name I withhold, is known 
to very many in this city; but scarcely one in fifty 
of his numerous friends is aware of this, the most 
eventful episode in his career. Jack Harper and 
myself were the sole depositories of the secret; but 


8 Preface, 

nearly a decade having passed since our immortal 
friend returned to his own element, we, thinking the 
story too good to be lost, determined to make it public, 
and it now appears under the title of “ The American 
Faust.” Harper, whose connection with all the prin- 
cipals of the narrative was direct, has provided the 
matter, and I have endeavored to preserve the 
interest which he contrived to put into his relation. 

Probably the secret of Mr. Elliott’s identity will 
now he revealed to Miss Harper, and possibly 
to Mrs. Elliott. This fear does not daunt us, how- 
ever, for Mr. and Mrs. E. are too devoted to each 
other to allow the memory of a departed demon to 
come between them. 

Edward A. Paulton. 


New York. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST 


CHAPTER I. 

IN WHICH HISTORY AVAILS ITSELF OF A TIME-HONORED 
CUSTOM, AND REPEATS ITSELF. 

In the spring of 188 — , a party of American tourists 
were making the rounds of the sights of the Old 
World — merely for the say-so, their spirits being of 
too business-like a nature for reverence, or to stay 
the unthinking scoff or the shallow joke, older than 
the curiosity which called it into being. The 
party were at Nuremberg. What had brought them 
to that dingy spot^ Who can say? A fatalist, before 
finishing this story, will conclude — destiny I He is 
welcome to his opinion. 

People who have visited the quaint old town of 
Nuremberg may, if they be of a literary bent, feel 
equal to the task of describing its picturesqueness. 
Many whose knowledge of that city’s antiquity is 
confined to hearsay, or whose eyes have but admired 
its oddity in pictorial representations, would natu- 
rally feel disinclined to risk the thunders of criticism 
by venturing on a minute description. Many — not 
all ! There are some who fear nothing ; one of these 
is the author of the following strictly truthful narra- 
tive. 

Nuremberg is the direct opposite, adjectively 
speaking, to the phonetic rendering given to the first 
syllable of its name. The streets are narrow, afford- 
ing more shelter than exposure ; being more shady in 
summer and less inclement in winter than broader 


10 


THE AMERICAN EAUST. 


thoroughfares. The first fioors of the houses, in all 
probability, jut out some feet over the sidewalk; 
thence the dwellings rise in latticed perpendicularity 
to red-tiled roofs, with large projecting eaves. On 
the lower side of these eaves, if we are to believe 
what we are told, there are innumerable birds’-nests, 
the abode of swallows or storks, it is difficult to say 
which without a book of reference. Where one 
street is intersected by another, there are corners, at 
which the houses are . probably cylindrically built, 
like tall towers, dotted with long slits of windows? 
the roofs in these instances resembling in shape 
extinguishers, sugar-loaves, and many other conically 
formed articles. 

Viewed from the walls on the north side, Nurem- 
berg is at its best. The shining river twines in and 
out through the spreading panorama of dwellings. 
From the red roofs rise innumerable wreaths of pale- 
blue smoke, which at a slight elevation meet and 
hang over the city in a semi-transparent cloud. For 
the sake of heightening the effect, We imagine the old 
town in the warm glow of the setting sun; not the 
fiery crimson, lighting the window-panes with living 
fire, but the rich amber, which like a stray fragment 
of the glory of the Eternal, fioods the western sky' 
with radiant happiness. The tall spires, with their 
darkened sides turned towards the spectator, stand 
out against the lucent background clearly and boldly ; 
one after another their deep-toned chimes pro- 
claim the seventh hour, and the molten sun sinks to 
slumber below the distant tree-tops. The fading glory 
struggles meekly against the deep azure of night; 
for a brief interval the amber shafts quiver low in 
the western sky, and then the saddening twilight falls. 
The far-off river fiows now a deep purple ; the roofs, 
gray with shadow, and the spires merge their outlines 
into the prevailing glOom. Night opens wide her 
star-gemmed mantle and throws it over heaven’s en- 
tirety, covering with darkness the silent town, hiding 


THE AMERICAiT FAUST. 


11 


the river from the gazer’s sight, and blending into a 
confused mass the roofs and spires. If the traveller 
be not afraid of the night air, he may stay and watch 
the twinkling of the lights in the streets and in the 
various windows from basement to garret, and philos- 
ophize thereon. 

That faint light, scarce strong enough to avail 
against the deep-colored blind, may shed its dismal 
rays on the bended head of some poor student whose 
soul rises superior to the lack of means ; whose mind, 
in the pursuit of learning, heeds not the fatigue of 
body which prematurely ages the heart and furrows 
the brow. That nearer brightness in a lower room — 
what kind of emotion does it witness ? A soft-eyed 
girl seated with his love tokens in her hand. Look- 
ing at them ? • No ! yet, by their touch, aiding her 
memory to form his image to her mind, to recall each 
sweet, endearing word her Fritz had uttered but an 
hour ago. Could he but see her now in her thought- 
fulness ! — see her eyes dim with the love which over- 
flows her heart for him ! And where is he ? 

There is a jovial, inviting light in yonder basement. 

Were the philosopher nearer, he could hear the 
shouts of revellers and the clatter of skittles. Fritz 
not unlikely is there, swilling himself into a habit 
which will in time grow to the second nature of intox- 
ication. His thoughts are not with her ; he listens to 
the coarse jests and ribald oaths of the boon-compan- 
ions, who are dragging his nature down to their level 
of degradation, and the fair, blue-eyed fraulein is 
forgotten. The light in her window is extinguished. 
She has prayed for her unworthy Fritz, and is now 
sleeping with his name still hovering on her lips. Oh, 
philosopher ! cease your reflections. They are too 
sad. Could you not have chosen the joyous side of 
life? Why not have pictured Fritz making himself 
useful at home, reading to his mother or singing to 
his sisters, and occasionally thinking, with a great 
heart-longing, of the blue-eyed maiden? 


12 


IHE AMERICAN EAUST. 


You philosophers find too much pleasure in taking 
life at its worst. You make others, who profess to 
recognize the truth of your lamentations, miserable. 

If learning and continued thought have strength^ 
ened your minds into motors for the multitude, exer- 
cise your sophistries, your wisdom, in a cheerful 
direction, and like powerful refiectors, seize what little 
light there is in life and emphasize it, directing your 
borrowed brilliancy into the darksome corners and 
gloomy niches of existence. 

The devil is not so black as he is painted. Which 
proverbial refiection brings us back to the object of 
this history. 

Franklin Elliott was an important unit in a touring- 
party which, in ‘ ‘ doing ” (I believe that is the techni- 
cal term) the sights and curiosities of the Old World, 
had, without design or premeditation, happened upon 
that relic of medieevalism and stand-by of Hans 
Andersen, Nuremberg. The reader is already con- 
vinced that the writer is totally ignorant of his sub- 
ject, so, with a simple bow to his undoubted perspicac- 
ity, we proceed to strengthen the conviction. Mr. El- 
liott’s companions were for the most part about his 
own age; they were the sons and heirs of railroad 
potentates, Wall-Street brokers, and other question- 
able characters, and it follows as a logical inference 
that their sinews of war were superior to lassitude or 
fatigue. Franklin’s parents, however, were in a poor 
way of business, having been defunct for many years ; 
for which reason Franklin was an orphan. His circum- 
stances were reduced, principally through his own 
fault, the reduction following upon evenings at poker 
and afternoons at horse-racing ; but he was such'good 
company, he was so amusing at all times in the 
unconsciousness of dry wit, that “ the boys” felt lost 
without him. 

He was a guest on this trip ; yet he labored under 
no sentiment about receiving obligation; he tended 
rather to the belief that he was the conferrer. The 


TUE AM ERIC FAUST. 


13 


rich were born to pay, and it is the duty of the poor 
not to interfere with their mission. In short, Frank- 
lin Elliott was the spinal column of the party ; his with- 
drawal from the main body would mean nothing less 
than utter collapse. Who took the lead in every esca- 
pade? Who was it that brought down upon their little 
party the vengeance of a beer-garden full of riotous 
German students? Who was it winked at the girl till 
she was compelled to laugh, to the jealous annoyance 
of her escort? Who was it that with gentle raillery 
goaded the lover on to assault and battery? They all 
suffered alike in the struggle for amusement and lib- 
erty ; but the casus helli was Franklin. Yet he never 
talked or boasted of his achievements ; no one would 
have supposed him to have been the master-mind of 
the party ; but he was. The others proposed and he 
disposed, almost with a look. 

It is necessary to give the reader a good insight into 
Mr. Elliott’s character, to enable him to realize the 
following chapters. 

Everything afforded Franklin subject for jest ; his 
tongue was ever ready, and not one of his confeder- 
ates — an expression which we hope will not hand him 
down to futurity as a conjurer— dared risk his sar- 
casms and witticisms. 

Franklin, in addition to an inexhaustible fund 
of animal spirits, w'as fairly good-looking, with- 
out being conceited; he being the author of an 
aphorism: “Plenty beauty, scanty brain;” which 
saying, as a rule, depended for proof on the existence 
of exceptions. 

He could do more in a minute by a little specious 
lingual persuasion than any of the others, with all 
their looks, in half an hour. 

Franklin, to sum him up, was the very personifica- 
tion of agreeable impudence. 

He was impudent to all, young and old, male 
and female. 

This very impertinence was so natural, so appar- 


14 


THE AMERICAN EAUIST. 


ently the outcome of an innocent, fearless nature, that 
people liked it. 

He called every middle-aged lady “Mother,” and 
every young girl “ Sis.” His German was execrably 
bad, but he paraded it on all occasions, and, by leading 
the laugh at his own mistakes, brought hearers to 
believe that he knew more than it pleased him to 
disclose. 

The sun was setting in the west, according to cus- 
tom, and as before stated. The New Yorkers stood 
outside the hostelry which was their temporary home, 
and discussed plans and estimates, gratuituosly ten- 
dered, with a view to shortening the evening. Like 
most other things, not made to order, it did not fit 
them. It was seven o’clock, and the hours seemed 
likely to hang heavy till bedtime, which in these 
quiet regions was nearly half a day earlier than in 
New York. On that side two was the earliest, here ten 
was the latest ; a distinct gain of four to Nuremberg, 
which, allowing for the meridional difference, about 
five, gave the latter nine hours the advantage. A 
large majority of the few interested in time-killing 
were in favor of seeking a beer-garden ; Franklin, for 
a wonder, was the sole dissentient ; he was thoughtful, 
he said, would smoke a cigar, and join them later in 
the hotel. After some attempts to move his resolu- 
tion, they left him. Franklin lighted his cigar, and 
sauntered idly along the narrow, half-dark streets. 
After wandering about aimlessly for a few minutes, 
he threw his cigar away, and began to whistle an air 
from “Faust.” 

From what trifles spring important issues! Had 
he whistled “ Sweet Violet” or any other melody, 
this history would never have been written I 

Franklin stopped in the middle of the air he had on 
his lips and thought : “ By George 1 this is the town in 
which old Faust was supposed to have lived. I 
believe they show his studio yet. I’ll take it in.” 

A man of execution is better than one of resolu- 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


15 


tion: Franklin however, improved on either by being 
a combination of both. In considerably more time 
than it takes to write it, he had found Faustus’ lodg- 
ing. He enquired in his best Bowery German accent, 
if the chamber was open to the inspection of the pub- 
lic. The old janitor said “iVem”, he was closing up 
for the night ; no more visitors and several other sen- 
ences in Deutschland vernacular. Mr. Elliott was 
not surprised ; he had half expected the information, 
and the coin which unlocked the old nail-studded 
doors was ready in his hand, equal to any emer- 
gencies of the sort. 

“ This,” lectured the old man, as he ushered Frank- 
lin Elliott into the dingy chamber, “ is where the cel- 
ebrated Dr. Faustus worked for years to discover 
the philosopher’s stone.” 

“ What philosopher’s stone ?” asked Franklin; but 
the old man was deaf. 

“ Here he sat night after night by the dim light of 
a taper,” continued the old man, in his own soft, gut- 
tural Wagnerian dialect, “working out most awe- 
some problems.” 

“ Conic sections, probably,” remarked Franklin. 

“It finally affected his brain,” maundered the 
dodderer, “and he made the horrible compact with 
the devil, of which you have heard ! ” 

“ No, never ! ” said Mr. EUiott. “ What was it ? ” 

The old usher, with a look of supreme pity in his 
eyes, explained to Mr. Elliott that the Evil One had 
presented Herr Faust with the gift of youth in ex- 
change for his immortal soul. 

“ Horrible ! ” gasped Franklin. “ Can such things 
happen in this nineteenth century ? ” 

“Yes,” answered the old man, “we all believe it, 
here.” 

Franklin did not believe it, but he had his mind fixed 
on an adventure ; he would be locked in the room all 
night, and, after causing his friends considerable anxi- 
ety, appear to give them the laugh in the morning. 


16 


THE AMERICAH" FAUST. 


He was probably wrong on the considerable anxi- 
ety question ; his friends were not of a nature to wor- 
ry about anything more than themselves. The old 
guide shifted along to a window in one corner of the 
room, desirous of showing his visitor a comprehen- 
sive bird’s-eye view of the town and river. This 
was Franklin’s chance. An antique wardrobe was 
standing at the side of the room which was most 
enveloped in the growing darkness ; into this Mr. 
Elliott stepped when the old man’s back was turned. 
The heavy door closed with a loud bang, and the 
guide turned round as sharply as his years permitted 
to look after the visitor. He was gone. 

The decrepit janitor then hobbled to the door of the 
chamber, imagining that to have been the one 
slammed, and peered down the dingy staircase, 
expecting to see the figure ot the departing travel- 
ler. 

He was disappointed. However, he had received his 
reward in advance; .so muttering something to the 
effect that he was not so lively on his legs as for- 
merly, he left the apartment to darkness and Franklin. 
Franklin stepped out of the wardrobe and examined 
his surroundings. The chamber was dark enough 
when the sun streamed in ; that old oak wainscoting 
is so gloomy, and that carpetless floor, stained a deep 
brown with dirt and years, is so unsympathetic. 
There was an old bookcase in one corner. Two or 
three high-backed, uncomfortable chairs, with odd 
carvings on the legs and arms, stood around, in dismal 
keeping with the surroundings. A small, heavy, 
solidly unhappy-looking table occupied the centre of 
the apartment, the abject picture of misery. There 
were moth-eaten strips of tapestry around the rickety 
windows, which would rob the very daylight of 
cheerfulness— and it was nlglit. Franklin struck a 
match and searched the room over for a lamp or can- 
dle. Thq friendly gas bracket was not there ! neither 
lamp candle ! The match slowly burned away ta 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 17 

his finger-tips, and he dropped it with an easy, every- 
day, passionless “ Damn! ” 

Franklin was not depressed. He had been thought- 
ful on his way, but that feeling had long since worn 
off. 

He drew one of the high-backed chairs close to tho 
table, and with the assistance of a cigar sat himself 
down to think. 

Everything favored contemplation, for everything 
was quiet. No ticking of clock to irritate the nerves ; 
no objects visible to distract the mind; nothing but 
the faint light from the street below dickering 
through the dust-covered panes of the window. The 
silence was profound, until the ear, growing accus- 
tomed to the monotony, became keen enough to dis- 
tinguish the distant patter of feet and rumbling of 
wheels in the quiet streets below. What more natu- 
ral than that Franklin’s thoughts should revert to the 
old legends, whose mystic web shrouded the few 
modern improvements which had been introduced 
into the ancient chamber. Elliott pictured to himself 
the hoary-headed student, seated at the table, just as 
he then was ; he mentally placed himself in Faust’s 
situation — an old man whose life was bereft of all 
brightness, who saw himself on the verge of an 
unsympathetic grave, with none to mourn his loss, 
none to extol the few virtues he possessed, and no one 
to gloss over his faults with the varnish of filial 
affection. “It was hard for him to die,” thought 
Franklin; “the old bookworm must have had a 
pretty tough time of it, and maybe he had never 
known what it was to have a boy’s heart and to expe- 
rience the fascinations of youth. Most likely he had 
soured his young days by a toilsome application better 
adapted to maturity. Yes,” said Elliott to himself, 
“a man like that would do a great deal for a first 
fling at life. Having tried it one way and proved it a 
failure, small wonder that he longed to see how the 
light and ajry ways of wickedness contr^-sted with 


18 


THE AMERICAJ^ FAUST. 


his musty methods. And so”— this is Elliott still 
thinking— “ and so he bartered his immortal soul to 
the devil in exchange for youth.” 

“To the devil!” mused Franklin; “I very much 
doubt if there is such a party. ” 

The only argument he could recall in favor of the 
existence of the Father of All Evil was the oft-reiter- 
ated one as to the impossibility of unassisted human 
nature being capable of the dreadful enormities which 
are daily brought to notice. 

Franklin was skeptical ; he found it hard to believe 
in anything out of the common, not because he was 
incredulous, but because it was too much trouble. 

He had no use for the devil ; he had nothing against 
him; it was not in Franklin’s nature to be prejudiced 
against anyone on mere hearsay. Very likely the 
devil was a good sort of a fellow in his way, and he, 
Franklin, would postpone his criticism until he had 
made the gentleman’s acquaintance — if he existed to 
become acquainted with. He always returned to his 
“ if.” People say the devil may be called to earth by 
the recitation of a paternoster, backwards ; Franklin 
tried it, but it was so long since he had prayed for- 
wards that the backwards variety did not come with 
sufficient fluency to warrant more than one trial. 

“ Here I am,” he said, in disgust, “ on the very spot 
on which a played-out old schoolmaster brought his 
Satanic Majesty from hell, and if he, with his compara- 
tive ignorance could do it, surely I, a modern, with 
the superior advantages of telephones and phono- 
graphs and other electrical appliances, can do it — and 
I will, or be satisfled that the devil is only a myth. 

“ It’s infernally stupid,” he soliloquized. “ How the 
others would laugh, if they heard me reciting invoca- 
tions to the powers of darkness. However, there is no 
one to hear me, so here goes.” 

Franklin commenced an impromptu appeal to the 
old gentleman: “Here stands a poor devil !” Mr. 
Elliott laughed and commenced again, thinking it 


THE AMEEICAH" FAUST. 


19 


injudicious to ask a favor on the grounds of rela- 
tionship. 

“ Here, on the spot already dedicated to thy damned 
presence, stands a poor waif, an impecunious stray, 
whose state of comfort and happiness in this life is 
dependent on the pleasure of bigger idiots than him- 
self. Oh, Satan ! Oh, Lucifer ! Beelzebub ! Mephis- 
topheles ! by whatever alias thou goest, hear my 
unholy prayer. By all the evil deeds ascribed to thee 
in the past and the present, by all the foulest blas- 
phemies thine own foul tongue could fail to parallel, I 
conjure thee — appear! Again I say, appear! ” 

Franklin sat down, almost exhausted by his exer- 
tions. “The devil may fancy this is a joke,” he 
thought, “but I’m hanged if I do.” He was hot; he 
mopped his brow, for large drops of perspiration 
trickled along his forehead. 

“Phew!” he said at last. “The room is like a 
Turkish bath.” 

As he spoke he turned his head, and there, at the 
left of his chair, stood a figure clad in the bright-red 
doublet and hose, the small cap with the nodding 
cock’s feather, the sallow face, deep eyes, and thin 
black mustachios of the accepted Mephistopheles. 

Franklin looked him up and down for a brief period 
and then said ; “Who are you ? ” 

The personage in red doffed his cap and replied: “ I 
am the devil. ” 

“The devil you are!” remarked Franklin. “D’ye 
mind the window being open?” and without waiting 
a reply he threw open the casement and inhaled a 
deep breath of the fpesh night air, 


CHAPTER II. 


IN WHICH SATAN, BEING ANXIOUS FOR A DEAL, CONCEDES 
MUCH, AND SIGNS A CONTRACT. 

His Satanic Majesty watched his manoeuvres with 
interest. “ Art warm? ” he asked. 

“ Everything on earth, ” answered Franklin, “goes 
by comparison. Compared to you no doubt I am 
freezing, but from a human standpoint I am register- 
ing at least ninety -six in the shade. I suppose you 
can breathe and go about without inconvenience in a 
temperature that would melt granite? ” 

Mephistopheles was reticent. He changed legs, and 
with an air of impatience began to talk business. 
“Mortal, what wantest thou with me? ” 

“My dear boy,” said Franklin, “ you are evidently 
unversed in the way of the world. It is customary to 
beat around the bush before getting down to hard 
and fast business.” 

The devil resigned himself to the situation, and sat 
down in the chair which Franklin had just vacated. 

“That’s right,” remarked Elliott, cheerily. “Make 
yourself at home. I’m sorry I’ve nothing in the 
house to offer you. A cocktail would perhaps be about 
your figure.” 

“I have not left — to be worldly I’ll say — mine 
office, to talk of cocktails, whatever they may be,” 
growled the devil. “ If thou can’st not rid thee of 
thine infernal diffidence, methinks I shall soon be 
constrained to leave thee.” 

“Gently! gently! my Elizabethan friend!” ob- 
served Franklin, undisturbed. “The ideas of the 
period in which you converse are no longer tenable 


TJIE iMERICAIT FAUST. 


21 


they are so unbusiness-like. You’ve lots of fellows 
below doing your work while you’re away, haven’t 
you?” 

“ An thou had’st one iota the experience in manag- 
ing a large concern myself can boast, thou would’st 
know that when the head of a department is absent, 
subordinates are ever lax in the performance of 
duty.” 

“ Quite so! you’re right, though your way of putting 
it is out of date. Thee and thou for commercial 
purposes are extinct; in colloquial English they are 
never used. The second person singular of the per- 
sonal pronoun has narrowed its circle of acquaint- 
ances to one religious community, to which, I presume, 
you do not belong.” 

Satan sniffed indignantly at the suggestion. 

“I’ll bring a chair up to the table for myself,” 
Franklin went on, “ and then we can talk comforta- 
bly.” 

He walked across the room and dragged another 
of the back-torturers into proximity to his visitor. 
Mephisto put his right leg across his left knee, and 
grasped his right ankle with both hands, the attitude 
being associated in his mind with contemplation. 

“ You don’t seem to be on very good terms with 
yourself,” broke in Franklin, after a slight pause. 

“ And is that surprising ?” asked Mephistopheles, 
with a sigh. “I have been presiding genius of a 
Home for Lost Souls for more centuries than your 
puny brain can imagine days 1” 

“ Come, come 1 no personalities! ” laughed Frant- 
lin. “You see you’re so open to reproach yourself 
for being such a blamed idiot in the first instance, 
that you’re hardly the one to throw mud at another.” 

“You’re right! ” agreed Mephistopheles, “ and that’s 
a portion of my private hell. A great many of you 
mortals imagine my — place — to be a burning lake of 
brimstone, with fetid exhalations of supernatural 
bitumen grafted onto the asphyxiating gases of 


22 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


decomposing vegetable matter. Nothing of the 
kind.” 

“You surprise me!” remarked Franklin, who in 
reality was not surprised at all. “What few 
thoughts I have given the subject certainly did favor 
the brimstone theory.” 

“ I fancied so,” continued the devil, with another 
long-drawn sigh; “ but you are as wrong as you can 
be. Have you ever tried to imagine eternity ? ” 

“ I don’t know that I ever have,” mused Mr. Elliott; 
“ but I will if you’d like me to.” 

“Don’t trouble,” said His Majesty, very consider- 
ately, “unless you wish to drive yourself mad. 
Hell, to make the matter comprehensible to your 
grovelling brain, is eternal monotony. Fancy your- 
self imprisoned in a chamber, black as the palpable 
darkness which fell upon the land of Egypt some cen- 
turies back. Fancy yourself in this horrid, tangible 
opaqueness groping with feverish, agonized hands for 
the mural boundaries of your misery; groping with 
wary feet, ever dreading some chasm to swallow you 
with your invincible unwillingness for death. For- 
ward, you stumble ; from side to side you oscillate in 
silent agony ; your hands never touch ; your eyes, so 
full of sight, are burning with an irksome blindness : 
there is no limit to your suffering. Your ears, alive 
to every sound, have no sound to soothe their pain 1 
All is blankness ! all is nothingness ! You long for dis- 
solution and yet you dread it. There is your worst 
punishment ! Die you cannot, and though you’d wel- 
come the deliverer he never comes. Think, then, as 
there is no limit to your dungeon, so is there no limit to 
your term; it is forever; for eternity. Never-ending 
monotony, never-ending agony, never-ending blind- 
ness, and maddening deafness through ages and ages. 
That is hell.” 

Satan, who had got on his legs during his ora- 
tion, seated himself with what would have been a 
heavy thud had he been mortal. The perspiration 


1:HE AMERICAN- FAUST. 


23 


stood in great drops upon his brow, and his breath — 
or what did duty for it — came and went in short, 
heavy spasms. 

“You’ll ruin your precious health if you get so 
excited over trifles,” remarked Franklin. “I never 
saw a fellow worry so much as you do.” 

“Trifles ! Hell a trifle ! ” Satan was disgusted, and 
he showed it in his next observation. “It appears to 
me,” he muttered, “ that we two are out of our right 
places. You should be the ruler of Hades, not I.” 

“ Well, I’m with you partly,” agreed Franklin. 
“ What with my modern ideas on ventilation, sani- 
tary improvements, and hygiene, all round, I guess I 
could whoop things up a bit, even in your played-out 
society.” 

“I wouldn’t advise you to try,” said His Satanic 
Majesty, with a mournful shake of the head. “You 
might be sorry afterwards ! ” 

“Say, old fellow, you’re growing devilish sentimen- 
tal, and it doesn’t suit your style of beauty at all,” 
said Franklin, in his usual bantering tone; “so I’m 
going to sit right down and talk business with you.” 

Mephistopheles pricked up his ears but offered no 
comments. 

“Now,” continued Franklin, cheerily,, “I want 
money ; I’ve been living for some time on the bounty 
of my friends, and I haven’t more than about two 
thousand dollars left. Bad luck on the turf, due to 
the uncertainty of “moral certainties,” is my chief 
complaint. Two thousand, you may object, is a 
very fair sum for a young unencumbered man to 
start life with, but I have no trade, no profession, no 
talent, and am altogether too darned lazy to work. 
I’m not particularly vicious.” 

‘ ‘ I know that, ” interrupted Satan. ‘ ‘ I’ve had about 
twenty of my smartest imps on your track for some 
time. They make very little headway. If you were 
only a saint we should have hopes of you, but you’re 
a cool, calculating customer, who won’t see the fun of 


24 


THE AMERICAN FAUST 


running crooked when it’s easy to go straight. I was 
never more surprised in my life than when informed 
that you were calling for me.” 

“To tell you the truth,” laughed Mr.. Elliott, “I 
never thought you’d come; however, now you are 
here, we can draw up the contracts. Here’s a chance 
for you to do a little conjuring. Let us have pens, 
ink, and paper.” 

Mephistopheles did not wave his arms in the air 
with the “no deception” theory in view; he did not 
even look at his audience with an “ I’m-going- to-be- 
clever” expression. No ; he just remarked, “There it is ;” 
and there it was — an elegant bronze inkstand, the 
figure of a recognized devil carrying a barrel, which 
contained the ink. The pens were ivory-handled ; in 
short, everything was of the best. 

“That’s not bad,” said Franklin. “It’s quite as 
good as the canary trick. You do the thing well, too, 
while you’re about it. I expected an ordinary five- 
cent glass bottle of writing fiuid and a half-sheet of 
note-paper, not this superfine legal foolscap.” 

“When you know me better,” remarked Satan, 
“you will recognize my tendencies to be towards the 
best of everything.” 

“Yes,” answered Franklin; “ I noticed how readily 
you took to me. By the way, I’ve probably had more 
experience at drafting agreements than you have had. 
Have a cigarette, and if you’ll just keep quiet for a 
few minutes. I’ll fix it up for you in proper shape.” 

Mephistopheles took the proffered cigarette, lighted 
it without a match, simply applied it to his lips, and 
smoked in silence. 

“ That’s prett}^ sniart,” said Mr. Elliott. “ Of course 
I know it is a simple application of the heat generated 
in the human frame, which at present is allowed to 
go to waste ; but as science advances we'll get onto 
little things of that kind and dispense with matches 
altogether.” 

As the devil seemed in no mood to argue the subject. 











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THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


25 


Franklin devoted himself to the drafting of the con- 
tract. 

In a few minutes he had finished. 

He threw away the remains of his cigarette, cleared 
his throat, and commenced to read the agreement. 

“An agreement between Mr. Franklin Elliott, of 
New York, of the one part, and Mr. Mephistopheles 
Satan, of the other part — ” 

‘ ‘ Mephistopheles Satan will do as well as any other 
name,” interrupted the gentleman of the other part, 
by way of comment. 

“That’s what I thought,” agreed Franklin — 
“whereby Mr. Franklin Elliott agrees to forfeit all 
claims to his ( Mr. F. E. ’s ) immortal soul so soon as the 
aforesaid immortal soul severs its business connection 
with his mortal clay ; all interests, rights, and privi- 
leges vested in the above immortal soul reverting to 
the before-mentioned Mephistopheles Satan, who on 
his part binds himself to faithfully carry out in full 
whatever wishes the party of the first part, Mr. 
Franklin Elliott, may express during the term of his 
natural life. Any failure on the part of Mr. Satan, of 
the second part, to fulfil the terms of the agreement, 
will thereupon release Mr. Franklin Elliott from 
all obligations. Nothing herein contained constitutes 
a partnership between the two parties.” 

“ There,” said Franklin, “that may not be in precise 
legal phraseology, but you understand it, and I do, 
and that’s all we want. Isn’t it ? ” 

“ It seems to me to be fair and square, ’’observed 
Satan. “ No loopholes for you that I can see.” 

The last remark had a dubious tone to it. 

“ Of course not,” laughed Franklin. “ Honor 
among thieves ! ” 

“That’s the worst of it,” grumbled H. S. M. ; “if 
you were an average bad man, I could trust you, but 
I don’t know what to make of you ; you’re a peculiar 
case, hence my particular interest in your damnation 
and my personal attention to the business ! It’s a 


26 


The AMERICAN FAUST. 


great honor I’m doing you. I haven’t been away 
from home now for several centuries. It isn’t neces- 
sary of course, for me, to be constantly with you. The 
agreement entitles me to send a deputy, does it not ? ” 
ventured H. S. M., by way of a feeler. 

“ No! I require personal attendance; the whole doc- 
ument reads personal attendance; the phrase ‘carry 
out in full whatever wishes, ’ etc. , clearly shows that.” 

“I object to that clause. I cannot he fettered in 
any way. I have great interests at stake, and — ” 

“Then we don’t make a deal,” broke in Franklin, 
preparing to tear up the contract. 

“ Stop ! Give me time to think it over.” 

“Very well. I’ll state what I expect, and you can 
agree or not, as you please. I don’t care which. In 
the first place, you must be to me as a valet, and in 
the second, if I ask you to work the supernatural for 
me, you must comply ” 

Mephistopheles considered ; he had not had a vaca- 
tion now for some centuries, and there were several 
new things on earth he was anxious to study — but a 
valet ! His pride rose at the thought. He, the once 
brightest angel of them all, to be a body -servant 1 
Oh, degradation ! indignity 1 

He swallowed the indignity, however, and seizing 
the pen, said, “ I agree ! I’m tired of the uncertainty. 
Let’s get the papers signed, and the matter off our 
minds. ” 

“Very well, ” assented Mr. Elliott. “It’s you who 
have been doing all the kicking, mind! Can you 
write, or will you make your mark ? ” 

With an expressive shrug, the father of all evil 
seized the pen, dipped it savagely in the ink, and 
wrote, in almost illegible characters, “ Satan.” 

“You seem to be in a beastly temper,” remarked 
Franklin, taking the pen from the devil’s hand, pre- 
paratory to signing the paper himself. 

“ I am,” growled the Infernal ruler; “I've had bad 
news.” 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


27 


“ Mother dead ? ” asked Elliott. 

“ I’ve lost a soul,” answered Satan. 

“Cast a hoof, you mean,” said Franklin, in a seri- 
ous tone of voice. 

‘ ‘ A man I reckoned upon has disappointed me. 
He has repented on his death-bed, curse him ! ” hissed 
the devil, between his teeth. “If there’s anything I 
detest, it’s a man who doesn’t die game.” 

“ Now I differ with you entirely,” argued Elliott, “ I 
consider the man deserves every credit. He has been 
bluffing you all through his career, and he finally 
scoops the pool with a pair of deuces. I admire him.” 

“ Bah !” snorted Mepphy. “ I’m sure of you, at all 
events.” 

“I trust you don’t claim any credit for that,” 
mildly interposed Elliott. “ I originated the idea, and 
have carried it out to what will be a successful con- 
clusion, if you’ll draw in your horns. Any signs of 
inflation on your part, and I refuse to affix my name 
to the agreement.” 

“ I apologize ! ” exclaimed H. S. M ., in a mild man- 
ner. “ Don’t let us fall out at this stage of the pro- 
ceedings ! ” 

Franklin stared the fallen one straight in the eye, 
until his contempt had made itself visible, and then 
scribbled his signature below Satan’s. 

“There!” he ^ said, giving a final flourish to his 
name, “ there is the document, signed and sealed and 
delivered.” 

“I should have liked your signature in blood,” 
timidly suggested the devil. 

“With pleasure 1” Franklin was ready to meet 
him in every way. “ If you’ve any blood you want 
to get rid of, I’ll write my autograph with it, if you 
like.” 

Satan did not deem it advisable to press the 
point ; he took the paper up, glanced over it, folded it 
neatly, and stowed it away in a wallet which hung 
at his side. 


28 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“Now,” said Franklin, in a new tone, adapted to 
more lively topics, “before we start on our trip, 
you’d better change your clothes.” 

“What for ?” demanded his Highness, in surprise. 

“They’re out of date. Nobody wears red tights 
and black-and-red trunks nowadays— at least not on 
Wall Street. The nineteenth century is more practi- 
cal than the fifteenth, if not so picturesque.” 

“ But this is my only suit,” objected Mephisto. 

“ It must be dismissed with costs, nevertheless,” 
retorted Franklin. ‘ ‘ Get into yonder wardrobe ; send 
a myrmidon to the nearest tailory for a check suit — 
something like mine— and leave money for it. I’ll be 
no party to any dishonesty.” 

“I don’t like the idea of wearing ready-made 
clothes,” grumbled Satan. 

“Perhaps not; but you’ve no time to choose what 
you’d like.” 

This settled the discussion, and Satan retired into 
the cavernous gloom of the old wardrobe. Frank- 
lin heard him in earnest altercation with some one 
for several minutes, at the end of which time he 
issued forth, radiantly attired in a well-fitting but 
particularly horsey-looking tourist’s suit, containing 
checks to a large amount. 

“ How do I look ? ” inquired Satan, turning his head 
completely round to admire the back view. 

“A regular dude I” laughed Franklin. “All you 
want is a hat — a silk hat— and a pair of russet 
gaiters, and you’ll make a sensation wherever you 
go.” 

Satan smiled at the unsolicited admiration ten- 
dered, and confessed to having ordered a complete 
outfit, which would be sent on to whatever hotel 
they stopped at. 

“There’s another point, however,” observed Mr. 
Elliott, “before we venture out into the wicked world. 
We shall have to settle on a name for you. I can’t 
call you ‘Satan,’ or ‘Devil,’ or ‘Lucifer’ wherever 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


29 


we go. It would appear profane, and might call atten- 
tion to you. ” 

“Very true. You forgot nothing,” said the devil, 
with genuine humility and an acknowledgment of 
Franklin’s superior intelligence. 

“Suppose,” continued Elliott, “we call you Mr. 
Tann, with two Ns, and keep , the S and A for initials. 
Catch on ? Then you’ll be Mr. Silas, or Saul, or Sam- 
uel, or Sadler A. Tann.” 

“I like Sadler myself,” chuckled the devil, who 
was tickled to death with the idea ; ‘ ‘ Sadler A. Tann ! 
What does A stand for ? ” 

“Andrew, Ambrose, or Adams,” answered Frank- 
lin. “ Adams will he best, I guess. If anybody asks 
you what your A means, say you were christened 
Adams in honor of the President of that name ; but 
the A won’t trouble you much. Better get some 
cards printed ; and it will assist matters considerably 
if you talk with a ‘ Daown-East ’ twang.” 

“ I know it,” said Mr. Tann, cheerfully; “we’re well 
stocked with Down-Easters below. I had to give 
them a special reservation. Hell would have been 
simply unbearable if we hadn’t admitted their claim 
to exclusiveness.” 

Franklin enjoyed this complimentary allusion to 
his New-England brethren, but did not let on to his 
companion that he considered him capable of excit- 
ing appreciation, even unintentionally. 

“ I think,” he went on, after a pause, “we’d better 
familiarize with each other. I’ll call you ‘ Sadler,’ 
and you’ll please to get the mastery of the feeling of 
awe I naturally inspire, and address me as ^ Franklin’ 
or ‘ Elliott,’ whichever you like.” 

“ Cert’nly,” said Mr. Tann, in his new accent; “but 
I prefer Franklin ; Elliott brings back painful memo- 
ries of what I can never forget. ” 

“Memory has its drawbacks. There’s room for a 
proverb on the subject. ’Tis folly to remember when 
forgetfulness is bliss,” 


30 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“Sounds like the name of a song,” ventured Sad- 
ler ; and he followed up his remark with a question. 
“ What is your idea of music? ” 

“ People tell me I have no idea of music,” answered 
Franklin. 

“Then you don’t require much pressing to sing, I 
reckon,” said Sadler, wdth evident intent to be funny. 

“Don’t do that,” reprimanded Franklin, rather 
sharply. “I want you to be witty and original in 
future. Retailing gray-bearded chestnuts in my pres- 
ence is likely to detract from my reputation. ” 

The devil, or, as we shall henceforth call him, 
Sadler A. Tann, hung his head in shame at having 
called forth this reproof. 

“ Yes,” continued Franklin, “if you can’t say smart 
things, be silent. Silence — that is, intelligent silence — 
and wit are blood relations.” 

Thus ended the conversation. 

Franklin went to the door of the room, and, not 
being able to open it, desired Mr. Tann to pick the 
lock, which burglarious achievement that gentleman 
accomplished in the drawing of a breath. The two 
theft walked down the rickety old staircase to the 
street, which, the evening being well advanced, was 
almost entirely deserted. They left Faustus’ lodging 
behind them and, side by side, proceeded in the direc- 
tion of the hotel, the particular name of which does 
not matter to the gentle reader. 

Sadler A. Tann registered and engaged a suite of 
rooms. 

Franklin led his new friend up to the room, in 
which his companions were smoking and drinking. 

“Say, fellows!” shouted Mr. Elliott, in his most 
hilarious tones, “ I’ve found a countryman of ours in 
this deserted hole. Don’t rise ; no ceremony ; he’s one 
of the boys. Aren’t you, Sadler ? Mr. Sadler A. 
Tann — Jack Harper, Barney Bleecker, Ulysses Smith. 
There you are. Sit down, Tann, and naake yourself 
comfortable,” 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


31 


Sadler shook hands all round, expressed his 
delight at making their acquaintance, and sat down to 
a whiskey -and- water with all the abandon of an old 
toper. 

“You’ll know them better some day, Sadler, won’t 
you ? ” questioned Franklin. 

“I hope so,” replied S. A.Tann,with a meaning smile. 

They sat drinking and interchanging experiences, in 
which latter amusement Mr. Sadler proved himself a 
most accomplished liar. On several occasions Elliott 
found it necessary to bark Mr. Tann’s shins as a 
warning not to overdo it. 

Mr. Sadler’s tongue became looser with every drink, 
so that Franklin, as a measure of precaution, forcibly 
took him from the whiskey and led him to his apart- 
ments. 

“Mr. Tann,” lectured Franklin, as he threw Sadler 
upon the bed, “you are three-parts full, and in 
another ten minutes you would have told those others 
all about our agreement.” 

“ I guess not,” responded Sadler to this onslaught; 
“ I’m not a gol-darned fool.” 

“You’re a very good imitation,” sneered Franklin; 
“and you’d better supply yourself with a strong con- 
stitution. A devil who is unable to defy intoxication 
is way below the standard ! ” 

“ Rubbish !” retorted Sadler A. Tann, feeling quar- 
relsome. “I’m not here to be talked to by you.” 

“What I” muttered Franklin, seizing Tann and 
shaking him, “ you answer me back ! You’re only 
my valet, after all. Don’t let me have any impu- 
dence again, or I’ll give you notice.” 

“To think,” growled Sadler, subsiding under this 
treatment — “ to think that I have to endure this for a 
shoddy soul like yours ! ” 

“We start for Paris to-morrow morning, so have 
your grip ready, and be up early to pack mine,” 
ordered Franklin. “ Undress yourself and go to bed. 
Good-night. Don’t forget your prayers. ” 


CHAPTER III. 


IN WHICH THE DEVIL TAKES HIS FIRST RAILWAY 
JOURNEY. 

Franklin lay awake in the morning, wondering 
whether or no he had been dreaming during the 
night ; for he had a crazy recollection of having sold 
his immortality to someone. He was still in a state 
of uncertainty, when there came a knock at the door. 

“ Who’s there ? ” shouted Franklin. 

“ I guess I am,” replied a strong Down-East accent. 

“ Who the devil’s I ? ” asked Franklin at the top of 
his voice. 

“Sadler,” came the reply. 

“ Come in, Sadler,” cried Mr. Elliott. 

Mr. Sadler A. Tann, for it was he, came in without 
opening the door and seated himself on a chair at the 
head of the bed. Franklin looked at him curiously 
for a moment, and then saw that he had not been 
dreaming. 

“It’s a great morning out. I’ve been up nearly two . 
hours; had a bath and took a stroll through the 
town,” said Sadler briskly and with intense satisfac- 
tion. 

“ What’s the time ? ” queried Elliott. 

“Eight,” replied Sadler. 

“What ! ” gasped Franklin; “ eight ! You must be a 
blamed idiot to come rooting around at such an un- 
earthly hour. Eight o’clock ! It’s all very well for 
you who can do without sleep altogether ; but I’m a 
different kind of chip.” 

“Don’t get angry, Franklin,” soothed Tann, “I 
won’t repeat the offence. You must make allowances 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


33 


for my ignorance of mortal customs. Is there any- 
thing I can do for you ? ” 

“Yes: favor me with your absence. I shall be 
glad to get to Paris, if only for the sake of seeing a 
newspaper from home.” 

“ I’m better off than you in that respect,” said Sad- 
ler. “ My foreman has orders to bring me a report 
every morning, and if the returns are not up to aver- 
age, somebody will probably be reminded of the exist- 
ence of Sadler A. We are obliged to work with double 
energy in these days of cheap labor and foreign compe- 
tition.” 

Elliott, completely ignoring Tann’s presence, had 
turned over and was sleeping the sleep of the con- 
scienceless. Almost on the stroke of ten he awoke, 
jumped out of bed, and dressed with the assistance of 
his infernal valet, who was still on hand. 

Sadler, in fact, did all the work of packing the 
trunks and grips, and fastening them; then they 
adjourned for breakfast, settled half-a-dozen hard- 
boiled, and their accounts, and, to the consternation of 
Franklin’s friends, left for Paris on the first available 
train. 

Sadler was as interested as a child on its first rail- 
way journey. He gazed intently out of the window 
at the scenery, and occasionally turned to Franklin 
for geographical information. It was so long since 
he had been on earth before that the general appear- 
ance of the towns and villages through which they 
sped was novel to him. 

The two conversed without fear of restraint, as they 
had the compartment reserved to themselves ; a lux- 
ury which Sadler’s money provided. 

“Something like travelling this!” mused S. A. 
Tann. 

“ Yes— for France. Beastly slow train for all that,” 
was Elliott’s reply. 

“Old Faust and myself were nearly two months 
getting to Paris four hundred years ago,” said Sadlei’ 


34 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


A. Tann, with a sigh born of the recollection. “Ah! 
what a man he was for gayety.” 

“ I guess,” broke in Franklin, “ you could enlighten 
us on many vexed questions; you could tell us the 
secret of perpetual motion, and reduce the chemical 
elements to about one-third, and reveal the compo- 
nents necessary to the manufacture of gold.” 

“I could! I could!” agreed Sadler, sententiously, 
but wearing his bump of secretiveness agressively 
prominent. 

“ You could if you like” — Elliott hinted — “tell us if 
there is any truth in that hatchet story of George 
Washington.” 

“ I could, but I don’t mean to,” snapped Tann. 

“ It is the duty of those who possess knowledge to 
distribute it.” 

“ It is a duty I intend to neglect. There are things 
I am not at liberty to disclose.” 

Mr. Tann leaned back upon the soft cushions as if 
desirous of terminating the conversation, and Elliott, 
willing to oblige, followed his example, and as a result 
fell off into a comfortable sleep. 

Tann, however, was not sleepy ; he was too thought- 
ful; he had plenty to employ his mind. He had 
always considered Elliott’s a bad case ; experience had 
taught him that saintly people as a rule make the 
best victims ; they have but to fall ever so slightly, 
and the rapidity of their motion down the declivity 
leading to the broad road is startling. But these 
good-natured, easy-going fellows, who were not mean 
enough to calumniate or slander, who didn’t see the 
sense of intemperance or dishonesty, and whose high 
standard of womanhood made them wary of the 
shady members of the sex, they were his stumbling- 
blocks. His percentage amongst erstwhile saints was 
satisfactory ; the work was hard, but the harvest was 
sure : but these other fellows whom nobody ever sus- 
pected, these others who enjoyed themselves, who 
were always ready with a smile for all and harsh 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


35 


words for none ; he hated them. That is why he con- 
sidered Elliott a tough problem to solve. None of his 
subordinates were equal to the task, so Sadler allotted 
it to himself ; and here he was taking his first ride in a 
railway train, like a drummer going where the exi- 
gencies of business directed. 

It will be as well to explain that Sadler A. Tann, 
Esq., had on his former terrestial sojourn neglected to 
endow himself with capabilities for gratification as 
shown by men in eating, drinking, and sleeping, but 
that, experience having taught him wisdom, he had 
not repeated the error. His near approach to intoxi- 
' cation the previous night was due to the injudicious 
indulgence of his fresh humanity. 

To enjoy drink, one must thirst ; to find pleasure in 
eating, one must hunger, though company at meals 
adds to that pleasure ; to test the sweetness of sleep 
‘ which knits up the ravell’d sleave of care,’ weariness 
is necessary. These were the several consolations of 
existence Sadler wished to experience ; and to acquire 
the joys he knew it advisable to endure the pain. 

These seeming digressions are merely for the sake 
of anticipating explanations of motives which would 
otherwise be necessary later. 

Sadler looked out of the carriage windows, and 
noted with what speed they flew by the hedges and 
posts and trees; and those long poles, like rdasts of 
ships with wires connecting them all, he wondered 
of what use they were. 

It was fun to him to see the horses scamper across 
the fields as the vociferous, puffing, rattling train 
rushed on; to hear the children, from their seats on 
railings and fences, cheer as they passed. 

Now they were waking the peaceful laziness of a 
rural scene ; now adding their quantum of smoke and 
noise to the blackness and bustle of a manufacturing 
town; now echoing and dinning through a narrow 
way cut in the hills, with high walls of dull-gray rock 
rising to a dizzy height on either side ; now clanging 


36 


THE AMERICAN^ FAUST. 


over an iron bridge, spanning some sluggish stream, 
with banks lined with silvery alders, and in whose 
shallow waters the cattle waded, heedless of the pass- 
ing train. 

Sadler’s eyes feasted with avidity on these rapid 
changes of art and nature, as cuttings, meadows, 
embankments, rivers, tunnels, and woods alternated 
in rapid succession. 

Readers may scoff at Tann’s simplicity ; but a sec- 
ond thought will remind them of the peculiarity of 
his situation : he was used to only one kind of scenery. 

Meanwhile Franklin slept on. 

Sadler began' to get homesick. Poor fellow ! he was 
so lonely ; his companion was selfishly breathing with 
great violence in a corner of the compartment, and he 
had not even a book to read. He had picked up a 
volume from the bookstall with the intention of buy- 
ing, but Mr. Elliott had rudely taken it from him, 
saying that it was not fit for him to read. 

Sadler began to hum, “ Mid pleasures and palaces 
tho’ we may roam. Be it ever so humble there’s no 
place like home.” His fancy travelled below, and he 
wondered how much his old friends and associates 
missed him now he was gone. 

By and by the pangs of hunger asserted them- 
selves, and Mr. Tann conjured up a cold chicken and a 
bottle of moselle. 

•Franklin woke up as soon as the luncheon appeared, 
and immediately praised Sadler for his thoughtful- 
ness. 

“ Good boy, Sadler!” he exclaimed. “ Glad to see 
you were thinking of me.'” 

Mr. Tann accepted the commendations as if he had 
come by them fairly. 

‘‘D’ye know I’d sooner have the power of doing 
things like that than have an inexhaustible bank 
account,” said Elliott, uncorking the moselle. 

“Dare say! ” remarked Sadler, filling his mouth full 
of chicken. 


1:HE AMERICAN FAUST. 


57 


“If you had ever encouraged a railroad sandwich, 
and had it chained to your peritoneum, like Prome- 
theus to Mount Caucasus, with your vitals gnawing 
away at it, and your digestive organs playing on it 
night and day for weeks with no perceptible effect, 
you would appreciate my desire.” 

“Are these sandwiches so very bad? ” asked Sadler, 
making a mental note of avoidance. 

“They vary in wickedness with the elasticity of 
the bread and the antiquity of the ham fibres,” an- 
swered Franklin. “You couldn’t give me the recipe 
for that cold-chicken-and-moselle trick, could you, 
Tann? ” 

“I could not,” was Tann’s reply, in thick, white- 
meaty utterance. 

“ Don’t talk with the mouth full,” rebuked Elliott. 
“ It is not usual in good society.” 

“ Who says I’m in good society ? ” 

“I apologize; I qualify my assertion: in society 
that was good till you intruded on its privacy.” 

“ You’ve got your back up because I won’t let you 
work miracles,” sneered Sadler, angrily. 

“I may not be able to work miracles, but,” said 
Franklin, coolly, “ I am capable of knocking the day- 
lights out of you, if you don’t keep your place.” 

“You forget that I am immortal! 

“ I ’ll believe that when you have vanquished the 
steel-riveted sandwiches I spoke of.” 

“Rats!” answered Tann, in the vernacular of the 
day. 

“You are vulgar! ” said Franklin. “ I don’t know 
where you can have acquired that expression.” 

“We have a varied assortment of fellows down 
below, who make use of that animal observation.” 

“Well, I forgive you,” said Franklin, holding out 
his hand in token of reconciliation. 

“ The forgiveness is mutual,” politely rejoined Sad- 
ler ; and they were friends once more. 

Railroad travelling was nothing new to Franklin, and 


38 


THE AMERICAN- FAUST. 


the novelty of the experience was bound to pall even 
on Sadler, sooner or later; and, as darkness threw its 
shadow over the landscape, the sooner was earlier com- 
ing than it would otherwise have been. Night passed 
away, and morning dawned and grew into day ; break- 
fast-time merged into the luncheon hour before the 
engine slackened speed, and, with the brakes pulling 
double, came to a standstill in the Paris terminus. 

“Now, Sadler,” shouted Franklin, jumping out of 
the train, “ you’re the better linguist, so negotiate for 
a fiacre while I look after our trunks. ” 

“ Right,” answered Sadler, as Mr. Elliott disappeared 
in the excited crowd of Gauls. 

‘ ‘ If there is any language I ’m great on, it is 
French; we do a lot of business with France. I 
remember about the time of the massacre of Saint 
Bartholomew — ” 

But Mr. Tann here wandered from speech into 
thought, and what might have been an interesting 
expose was lost. When Franklin returned with a 
porter and the trunks, Mr. Tann was still in a brown 
study. 

“ Where is the fiacre? ” asked Franklin. 

“Oh!’' exclaimed Sadler, disentangling himself 
from his thoughts. “You did startle me! I forgot 
all about it.” 

He soon made up for his negligence, and the two 
were speedily seated in a vehicle, debating where the3^ 
should stop. 

“Tell him to drive to the Trans- Atlantique,” said 
Franklin, at last. 

Tann put his head out of the window and did as 
directed, in excellent French. 

“ I guess,’’ remarked Franklin, as they rattled over 
the rough stones, “ that all languages are pretty much 
the same to you.” 

“ They are all the same,” said Sadler. “I am as 
good at Hindustani or Japanese or Kamschatkan as I 
oin at French.” 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


39 


“So am I; better, if anything,” was Franklin’s 
rejoinder ; but Sadler A. Tann did not offer to laugh. 

‘‘ Say, old fellow, which was the original language 
of the Garden of Eden? ” asked Mr. Elliott. 

“There are things, as I observed before, which I am 
not at liberty to disclose,” answered Tann, decisively; 
“and, moreover, science will some day settle the ques- 
tion for itself. I will not forestall science, for which 
I have a deep regard.” 

On the completion of this sentence, silence fell upon 
them both. 

The vehicle stopped, and a double quartet of vol- 
uble gargons emerged from ambush and commenced 
hauling away at trunks, rugs, and grips with noble 
disregard of the owners’ intentions. 

The weary travellers surrendered at discretion, and 
consented to stay at the hotel in which their luggage 
was already stopping. 

Franklin dashed into the office to engage rooms. 
Sadler remained on the sidewalk to settle with the 
cocker. 

It was Mr. Tann’s first experience in this direction. 

“ Trois francs, cinquante centimes,''^ shouted cocker, 
thinking to get the best of the foreigner ; but Sadler 
knew too much to be thus imposed upon. 

“ You can take two francs and be satisfied.” 

Deux francs!"'^ screamed cocker, waving his arms 
around, windmill fashion. Mon Dieu!'' Then he 
lapsed into broken English: “You think to make a 
fool of me. Monsieur Jean Bull Beef.” 

“ You are mistaken,” replied Sadler, calmly ; “ I am 
no Britisher ; I am a gol-darned Yankee, and don’t 
you forget it. Two francs is the limit.” 

He forgot to say what the ante was, probably be- 
cause of his ignorance of poker. 

“ Trois ! three,” vociferated the hackman. “You 
call yourself a shentleman ! Prenez-garde ! ” where- 
upon he jumped off the box and got his feet into kick- 
ing position. 


40 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“See here, stranger, let up on that,’' said Sadler, 
pushing the excited Frenchman with his right hand. 
“ Don’t attempt intimidation with me.” 

“ Vous me frappez ! Sacre !’’ yelled cocker, and 
the sidewalk was covered with French oaths. 

“ Gee- Whittaker !” thought Sadler; “there’ll be a 
scene. He’ll have me arrested for assault.” 

“Three francs !” howled the Frenchman, shaking 
his fist at Sadler, and preparing for a vigorous rush. 

“Very well ! ” said Mr. Tann, digustedly. “Here’s 
your money, and I’m a blamed idiot to give it to you. 
Understand, I pay under protest.” 

The dispute ended when the money was paid over, 
the driver not caring what the payer was under so 
long as the extortion jJrospered. Sadler retired into 
the interior of the hotel, thoroughly sickened at the 
wickedness of the world in small things. 

“What’s the matter ?” hailed Franklin, as he saw 
Sadler coming in with a brand-new frown on his 
never-happy countenance. 

“Matter!” echoed Mr. Tann. “Just been beaten 
out of a franc and a half by a two-for-a-cent cabman. 
It’s not the money, I care about — it’s the idea of me 
being swindled by a foreigner.” 

“Never mind, Sadler,” consoled Elliott. “It’s a 
greenback to a nickel that that youth will drink him- 
self into a state of deadly intoxication on petit-hleu or 
some other fancy cordial, go home, beat and perhaps 
kill his wife. You never know how much good a 
quarter will do.” 

Sadler brightened under this suggestion, and forgot 
his troubles ; whereby it will be seen that Elliott was 
something of a diplomatist, knowing the kind of con- 
solation likely to be efficacious, and applying it ac- 
cording to the directions on the bottle. 

This narrative is devoted almost exclusively to the 
connection between S. A. Tann and his human friend, 
with the idea of showing moderns that many curious 
things happen in their midst of which they are not 


THE AMERICAN FAUSt.- 


41 


aware. If we do not enter into a minute description 
of Paris, it is for various reasons, some obvious, others 
not: firstly, because a description of that gay city 
would utterly fail to satisfy those who have visited it; 
secondly, because to those who have not been there a 
picture of any other city would be equally satisfac- 
tory. W e have heard the French metropolis described 
as a city of gas and glass, of mirrors and lights, also 
of cheap claret. Strangers are apt to run away 
with the idea that the women of Paris are more beau- 
tiful than those of any other city; it is a mistake. 
The average Frenchwoman is homely of feature and 
unnatural of movement ; but the art of dressing to 
advantage and minimizing defects is so completely 
mastered, that the mistake referred to is pardonable 
in those whose ideas of beauty are obtained in a 
coup d' oeil. 

Sadler A. Tann and Elliott have been m Paris three 
days already, with opposite results in each; the former 
being delighted with everything, the latter satisfied 
with nothing. (From this, an unobservant reader 
may conclude from that Franklin was easily satisfied.) 

“I wish I had your nature,” he said to Sadler, one 
day at luncheon. ‘ ‘ You enjoy everything. You saw a 
man run down by an omnibus the other day, and while 
everybody else was stricken with horror, your face 
was on a broad grin. You were positively pleased.” 

“ I was indeed,” agreed S. A. “It is only from a 
thorough appreciation of trifies that true content- 
ment springs.” 

“ And yet you grow uneasy over things which I 
pass by unnoticed. Isn’t it so? ” 

“ It is,” said Sadler. 

“Then your notions of beauty don’t agree with 
mine ; and, understand, I have no desire to be intro- 
duced to any of your disreputable connections.” 
Franklin continued. “ There are men who appreciate 
bleached, fairness in combination with artificial com- 
plexion, but I ’m not one.” 


42 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


“ So you did not admire my blond friend? ” laughed 
Sadler, stroking his chin meditatively; “she was very, 
very much impressed with you.” 

“I noticed that,” said Franklin, with a shiver of 
disgust. “If there’s anything I dislike, it is being 
gushed at. That sighing and languishing and mak- 
ing what they call mowes, or some other ridiculous 
term, simply tires me to death. ” 

“My dear boy,” said Sadler, “ all trick, all affecta- 
tion, born of a fondness for jewelry and furs.” 

“ Yes; well, it don’t go with me, Mr. Tann,” decided 
Elliott, bringing his hand down on the table with a 
bang. “ I guess I can get along without them.” 

“Pooh I” sneered Sadler. “We shall have you 
setting up as a saint next.” 

“No, I ’m no saint,” retorted Franklin ; “ but there’s 
something peculiar in my nature. I’ve had what 
some would consider a fair share of racket, and expe- 
rience has taught me that a true woman is more 
valuable than diamonds or rubies.” 

“ Scripture nowl ” scoffed Sadler. 

“And,” Franklin went on, without noticing the 
interruption, “ the persons you bring me into* contact 
with are so much below my standard of womanhood, 
and so repulsive to me, that, after all, there’s no credit 
to me in being virtuous.” 

There are many men like Elliott ; more than people 
think. Whatever weakness there was in his nature 
was corrected by the strength of his disgust for un- 
womanliness. 

Sadler often sat up late at night, wondering how on 
earth he was to lead Franklin Elliott into the paths of 
wickedness. He could not understand the want of 
logic displayed by his companion, nor the want of 
success experienced by himself. The man was his, 
and yet he wasn’t ; he could not control Elliott’s will, 
and it worried him. Why should he worry, when 
the question of Franklin’s futurity was settled to his 
satisfaction? What did it matter to him how good 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


43 


Mr. Elliott was, so long as he belonged to him, Sad- 
ler? 

Mr. Tann was on his mettle for all that ; he should 
not feel sure of his bargain until he had steeped it in 
every excess. 

After luncheon, they drove for an hour or so in 
the Bois. Mr. Tann was alive to all the notorieties 
of the demi-monde, and he pointed most of them 
out to Franklin. Many a smile was wasted on 
Elliott that afternoon; many a warm glance was 
frozen by his unresponsive stares. Those who 
showed a desire for Franklin’s society were the last 
to get it. On the way home Mr. Tann grew out of all 
patience with his friend; he expressed himself as 
weakening in his love for Franklin, but the only reply 
he received was a very impolite request to go to . 

Elliott did not complete his sentence, for at that 
moment a carriage flashed by containing two ladies 
and a gentleman. One lady, middle-aged and with a 
stately bearing ; the other young, not more than sev- 
enteen, but resembling her senior; the gentleman was 
old enough to be the young lady’s father. He was; 
and the elder lady was his wife and her mother. 

‘ ‘ Did you notice that trio ? ” asked Franklin of Sad- 
ler, as the carriage rolled out of earshot. 

“ No, I didn’t,” grunted Mr. Tann. 

“ I did! ” said Elliott. “That’s what I call pretty. 
Didn’t you see the loving look in the girl’s eyes as she 
talked to her mother, and what pride the parents both 
of them felt in their sweet young daughter ? ” 

“You saw all that, did you?” sneered Sadler, 
“ Deuced observant all of a sudden ! ” 

“Yes!” sighed Elliott. “We Americans like to 
see true family affection, when it breaks out natu- 
rally. Now, there was nothing ostentatious about that 
little party, and yet I ’ll bet all I ’ve got they ’re as 
happy a trio as you’ll And anywhere on earth,” 

“You make me tired,” remarked Sadler. “Maybe 
that’s your idea of happiness ? ” 


44 


tflE AMEMCAH EAtiST. 


“You’ve hit it, Sadler A. Tann,” said Elliott, 
‘ ‘though I’ve no particular desire to get married. One 
reason I should not like my wife to know you.” 

“You’re complimentary, anyway,” observed Sad- 
ler, in a huff. 

“Well,” laughed Franklin, “you know who you 
are, and so do I ; and you must feel that you’re hardly 
a desirable acquaintance for anybody.” 

They finished their drive in silence ; Franklin think- 
ing how pleasant it would be to settle down into a 
state of marital cosiness, now that it was clear to him 
that the pleasures of “life,” in parentheses were, so 
far as he was concerned, played out. He was in a 
quiet mood during dinner, and Sadler, knowing his 
thoughts, grew frantic to such an extent that Frank- 
lin was compelled to remark it. 

“ What ’s wrong with you ? ” he asked. “ Isn’t the 
consomme good? ” 

“It’s you I am not satisfied with,” replied S. A. 
Tann. “ You ’re not acting fairly by me. You don’t 
love me as you ought to.” 

‘ ‘ Sadler ! Sadler !” remonstrated Franklin. “You 
know as well as I do that I only use you. Between 
us it’s business from the word go, and the moment I 
see any signs of shuffling on your part— it’s all 
off.” 

“You’re doing all the shuffling in this deal,” 
retorted Sadler. “ Why can’t you be dishonest ? Do 
something, man, to gratify my wishes ! ” 

“Nonsense, Sadler! ” said Elliott. “ There is noth- 
ing in the contract about gratifying your wishes. 
You have to gratify mine.” 

“ Come,” entreated Tann, “ there’s no hard and fast 
line in a mutual agreement like ours. You could 
easily stretch a point.” 

“There’s no mention in our agreement about my 
stretching or doing anything disreputable. Is there ? 
If I feel any desire at any time to accomplish any 
act of vice I shall do it to oblige myself, not to 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


45 


please you. I guess I don’t need any devil to help me, 
one way or another.” 

“Hush! Don’t speak so loud. Don’t give me 
away 1 ” begged Mr. Tann, as one of the waiters drew 
near. 

“Bah !” exclaimed Franklin, raising his voice in- 
tentionally. “ If you don’t like it, you know what 
you can do, don’t you? ” 

“All right, Franklin! Don’t get angry,” whis- 
pered Sadler, as the waiter placed the entree before 
him. 

“ Angry ! ” Elliott laughed, “ have you ever seen me 
lose my temper? No! Well I guess I’m not going 
to give off any energy on a — ” 

“Hold on !” implored Sadler. “Everyone’s look- 
ing at us ; go on with your dinner.” 

And Elliott, too indifferent to pursue the subject, 
resumed eating. 

When they had finished their repast Sadler pro- 
posed a theatre, and Franklin, knowing of nothing 
better to pass away the evening, consented. 

“By the way,” said Sadler, as they went upstairs 
to dress, “ we have both been elected members of the 
Itinerary.” 

“ What’s that ? ” 

“ Oh, it’s a club,” answered Tann, “ for the conven- 
ience of Americans and Englishmen who happen to be 
passing through or spending the season in Paris.” 

“And we are elected ! Who told you to put me 
up ? ” enquired Franklin. 

“Nobody; but I knew you’d be willing. It’s good 
business,” replied Sadler. 

“ You’d better consult me in the future as to what 
I wish to belong to,” said Franklin; “ and, moreover, 
understand that if you are proposed for any club of 
which I happen to be a member, I blackball you.” 

With this parting thrust, Elliott entered his room 
to. don his evening attire. 


CHAPTER IV. 


IN WHICH MEPHISTO WITNESSES THE OPERA “FAUST,” 
AND THE STORY TAKES A SERIOUS TURN. 

There was a large and assorted audience assembled 
in the Opera House. The diplomatic corps of va- 

rious nations, with the stars of each other’s orders glis- 
tening, metaphorically, on their breasts ; the military 
profession, with stripes of merit and war-medals 
resplendent ; and the colony whose pride is neither in 
stars of orders nor in strij^es of merit, but in the stars 
and stripes, that greatest of all decorations, had 
each its complement of representatives. Sadler’s 
experience as a theatre-goer was naturally limited. 
This was only his second visit in a few centuries. 
When he was showing Dr. Faustus round, four hun- 
dred years back, stage representations were almost 
unknown. He had then seen a miracle play, and had 
felt sore over the harsh treatment meted out to a 
poor harmless devil, the best actor of the crowd. 

Sadler A. Tann had no premonition of what he was 
destined to view on this occasion ; he had too been 
careless to make use of the prophetic abilities lurk- 
ing under his mortal exterior. 

After lingering in the foyer to chat with a few 
acquaintances and smoke a cigarette, and also to 
exhibit the evening dress-suit which, for the first 
time since the Avorld was evolved from the chaotic 
void, garnished his limbs, he strolled jauntily into the 
private box reserved for his use. Franklin had i^rom- 
ised to join him later ; our very unromantic hero was 
keeping an appointment at an American friend’s, 
which compelled his absence for the first few ‘minutes 
of the entertainment. Sadler A. Tann opened his pro- 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


47 


gramme listlessly, just to see what it was he was pay- 
ing for, and was much surprised to notice that the 
piece was entitled ‘ ‘ Faust. ” He fell into a reverie won- 
dering if the play was about the man he had been 
so intimately connected w’th in the past. The 
tapping of the conductor’s baton, warning the mu- 
sicians to be on the alert, interrupted his reflections, 
and the brilliant overture commenced. 

Mr. Tann was enthralled ; he had heard of the 
soothing effect of music ; for the first time in his 
career he experienced it. The flowing harmonies 
carried him away into a sort of dreamland, m which 
he almost forgot eternity. He leaned well over the 
ledge of the box, and, keeping time with the band, 
swayed his head to and fro like a python making 
ready for a final dart. Every opera-glass in the house 
was levelled on him ; numerous questions of the 
“who is he ? ” and “where does he come from? ” order 
were asked. His sallow face, black mustachios, and 
attenuated goatee inclined a large majority to favor 
the idea that he was a Spanish nobleman of some 
account ; others inclined to the belief that his sallow- 
ness was due to an influx of bile, and that his leaning 
over the box could be ascribed to the same cause. 

This is an excellent opportunity for a description of 
our diabolical hero, but it shall be let slip. Oh, Mr. 
Tann, you are in heaven now — or as near as you can 
be. The orchestration and the harmonious catch-as- 
catch-can wrestling of a couple of melodies led him 
to confess that the music of the spheres never equalled 
what he was then hearing. 

Sadler had drunk into his ears the spheral music 
so often talked of ; he had sung his first ballads to its 
accompaniment; but the ties of old recollections 
parted like rotten twigs in the soul-stirring beauties of 
this music. Chords of brass and of wood, with trim- 
mings on the strings, resounded through the house, 
and awed him into a sense of humility before man’s 
talent. No devil had ever composed an opera, or 


48 THE AMEKICAH FAUST. 

written a play or a poem ; he blushed for Hades. It 
was behind the age in everything mental and athletic. 
Sadler’s opera-glasses were on the edge of the box 
near him, and hence a ludicrous scene which mate- 
rially interfered with the general appreciation of the 
overture. In craning forward to spread out his ear 
so as to more readily engulf within its tympanic 
depths the now familiar melodies, Mr. Tann’s elbow 
came with some force into contact with the glasses, 
which were thus launched at random into space. 
Where would they be sure to alight? It is extraordi- 
nary how such accidents usually happen to irate old 
gentlemen whose tempers are ready to explode over 
the merest trifles — and it is no trifle to stay the 
downward career of a heavy opera-glass, once it has 
settled into its stride. 

There was a delicious bald head in the parquet; it 
was a smooth, glistening pink poll of more than 
average beauty. It was no small, conical head ; it was 
a polished globe of pleasing dimensions, slippery as 
a ball-room floor, and as carefully kept. Into the 
exact centre of this fair expanse dropped the opera 
glasses with a soft thud. The old gentleman for a 
brief minute bowed his head beneath the mighty 
stroke and gave utterance to a prolonged “Ooh!” 
Then he rose, and pulling a silk handkerchief from 
his pocket, held it to his damaged cranium, while 
he raised the theatre several degrees — in English, 
Without attempting to focus the glasses, he threat- 
ened to force them down the etc. throat of the (list 
of adjectives, simple and compound) ruffian who had 
mistaken him for the Emperor of Russia. 

Those 'who had witnessed the occurrence laughed 
unfeelingly, and those who had not, shouted 
to the old gentleman to sit down ; which, after 
swearing some more and searching the house for his 
concealed foe, he did. Franklin entered the box at 
this moment, and sat down to a perusal of the pro- 
graming.^ Reading the narne of the opera he laughed 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


49 


heartily for some seconds, then asked for his glass to 
take a look round the house. Sadler mentioned 
that he had dropped that instrument of torture into 
the parquet. The lorgnette had been given to Elliott 
by a friend since dead, so he had been anxious to keep 
it in grateful memory. Unthinkingly he went 
down to enquire after them ; the first person he ques- 
tioned directed him to the bald-headed gentleman. 
But why dam the free flow of the story to linger over 
the riotous proceedings which followed? Franklin’s 
polite enquiry was greeted by a vicious snort and yell 
of triumph ; a soft, perspiring hand was spread across 
his face, as if to render him insensible, and before he 
had time to resist he was lying on his back amongst 
the old gentleman’s feet. The ushers were on the 
scene in an instant, and four of them escorted the 
bald-headed victim of mistaken Nihilism up the 
centre aisle, protesting in a loud voice, at the French 
and their organized injustice and hatred of the Eng- 
lish. His money was not returned, but his seat was 
sold over again a few minutes after. 

Elliott rejoined Sadler A. Tann, crumpled but 
amused at the novel experience. He made no re- 
marks, however ; he simply did with the matter what 
Tann had done with his opera-glass, let it drop. 
The overture had finished while Franklin was 
engaged down-stairs, but owing to the disturbance 
the rising of the curtain had been delayed. 

All was quiet with the exception of the slight 
crackling sound made by Franklin’s dress shirt as he 
pulled the wrinkles out of it. The curtain rose, and 
the scene was disclosed: Faust’s chamber. Was it to 
be wondered at that Franklin found it hard to 
restrain his laughter? Not knowing what was 
coming, S. A. Tann was slow to realize the humor 
of the situation. 

His sixth sense, that of the ludicrous, was probably 
missing or in the possession of one of those aggravat- 
ing creatures who laugh to the full extent of their 


50 


THE AMEllICAN FAUST. 


leathern lungs at anything and everything. But when 
his^own mediaeval double slipped through a vampire- 
trap and assumed an attitude of conscious cynicism 
and salaried devilishness, he felt injured in his tender- 
est feelings. The stage Mephisto was a large, fat man, 
very ungraceful, ungainly in fact, with a deep bass 
voice, which in action resembled the noise of heavy 
X)ieces of ordnance lumbering over an iron bridge. 

“I’m not in the least like that, am I?” he asked 
Franklin, with some trepidation lest the answer 
should be yes. 

“ Not now,” answered Franklin, “but it’s probable 
you were, four hundred years ago. A century or -two 
makes a wonderful difference in a — person.” 

This silenced Sadler for a few seconds ; then he 
began muttering to himself: “We didn’t sing. 
What rot ! Who ever heard of people singing 
over such important business transactions? I’d 
have left him if he had lingered on high notes. I 
never walked round in a spot of red light. Oh, it 
makes me tired ! ” 

When Faust changed from the old man to the youth, 
Sadler’s excitement carried him away to such an ex- 
tent that he got up in the box and said, “ Bah ! not a 
bit like it! ” loud enough for everybody to hear. El- 
liott pulled him back into the shade of the box, and but 
few knew whence the remark came. The tenor on 
the stage did, for one, and that was why his cadenza 
didn’t arise with its usual fluency. Nevertheless 
he recovered in time to bring the audience round to 
his way of thinking, and the curtain went down on 
the first act amid tumultuous applause. 

“ If you’re not careful, Sadler, I shall be compelled 
to take you home,” threatened Mr. Elliott. 

“Oh! who could sit quiet and see the whole affair 
misrepresented in that way.” 

“You let such trifles rattle you ! ” laughed Franklin. 

‘ Come out and have a drink. You’re hot and fever- 
ish, my young friend.” 


THE AMEillCAH FAUST. 


51 


Sadler not objecting, they went down-stairs to the 
salon, had a claret and seltzer, smoked a cigarette, 
and returned to the box in good spirits. 

In the next act the doings of Faust and Mephis- 
topheles at the Kermesse, and the succession of cho- 
ruses, interested the audience and worried Sadler out 
of all patience ; but Franklin had a watchful eye on 
his friend. 

“ Did you see that ? Did you see that ? ” questioned 
Sadler, as the representative of Mephistopheles poured 
the dregs of wine on to the ground, and the flames 
sprang up. 

“ Isn’t that all-fired rubbish? Now d’ you think I’d 
give myself away like that. I never did it. No devil 

of any sense would do a d d ridiculous thing like 

that. ” 

“Be quiet,” remonstrated Franklin. “It’s only a 
play.” 

“I don’t care,” cried Sadler; “ I don’t care a conti- 
nental how wicked they make me, but I’m darned if 
I’ll have people labor under the impression that I’m a 
thundering jackass.” 

“Wait and see what they do with you in the next 
act,” said Franklin. “You’ll be quite satisfied, I 
promise you.” 

They sought the refreshment counter again and in- 
dulged in another drink after the second act; but 
Sadler’s offended dignity was beyond all soothing. 

The next act only made matters worse ; Mr. Turin’s 
indignation increased in volume, and could not be 
restrained by any frail dam of etiquette. “I never 
was such a fool as that,” he objected. “ That fellow’s 
a palpably wicked cuss. D’you mean to tell me that 
I go round standing in devilish, stupid, malignant 
attitudes like that? Do I wear a there-shall-be- 
no-mistake-about-me-I-am-the-devil look all the time, 
as this idiot does ? Why, he wouldn’t deceive a 
two months’ old babe ; he’s labelled. Marguerite was a 
much harder person to tempt than this young female ; 


62 


THE AMEllICAH FAUST. 


and another thing, my Faust would not have looked at 
her twice. He was a connoisseur of female beauty ; 
I had tempted him wdth about twenty before he de- 
cided on Marguerite.” 

He persevered in this strain throughout the evening, 
in spite of Elliott’s requests to “quit it,” “shut up,” 
and of numerous kicks of admonition. 

“I don’t know where they got this version of the 
story,” continued Sadler. “It’s not correct. Mar- 
guerite’s father was alive ; he was a widower ; really 
invented printing. There, I’ve given that away, and 
I didn’t intend to. This Martha they’ve introduced 
into the story, never existed.” 

“She was good enough for Goethe!” mildly in- 
terposed Franklin. 

“Um! Goethe wasn’t so particular as I am. I 
never walked round with any _ old woman whose 
facial epidermis was too large for her. I couldn’t do it, 
Franklin. It’s a libel on me, and I’m not in a posi- 
tion to resent it. And we never gave her jewels ; she 
wasn’t the sort jewels would cajole; not she. Faust 
played the pious game ; made her a present of a prayer 
missal, rolled his eyes to heaven the while he winked 
his spare .eyelashes. The silly girl believed us. Her 
father — we had to get rid of him ; he ordered us out 
of the house. Ingratitude I I’d given him a pointer 
about casting type; but we inoculated him with 
measles or something, and Marguerite was left an 
orphan. By the way, her name wasn’t really Mar- 
guerite ; that was only a pet name we gave her, just 
as you might call your best girl, Daisy.” 

“Will you let up on this drivel and allow me to 
hear what’s going on?” requested Franklin. 

“Oh!” sighed Sadler, “you’re like all the rest; so 
long as you’re not directly affected you don’t care. I 
may suffer, and you don’t feel it. I may be libelled 
and represented as a palpable devil and you don’t 
mind. Marguerite! Pah! she didn’t wear her hair 
in that Spanish onion style. He was six months 


THE A MERIC AK FAUST. 


53 


courting her, and if I hadn’t been there to encourage 
him I don’t believe the girl would have listened to him 
till now. Dear little thing ! I was sorry for her ; she 
did take his deceit to heart so. He behaved to her 
very badly; I wasn’t to blame. I left off tempting 
him and it was all his own wickedness, not mine. 
Man doesn’t need so much assistance, after all. I told 
him plainly what I thought of him. I said if I were 
in his place I would marry the girl, and he insulted 
me, and told me I was not a man of the world. I’m 
older and wiser now — four hundred years older. I’ve 
had to keep up with the times. Faust was ahead of 
the times. As the world has grown more corrupt, I 
have. Man advances in wickedness, and I have to 
keep a trifle ahead. The calling of a devil used to be 
laborious ; but, now that there’s less fear of the future 
and more belief in the mortality of the soul, it’s com- 
paratively easy. It’s a beautiful theory, is the rule 
of love, but that of fear is worth a dozen of it in 
practice.” 

“Are you going to moralize much more? ” enquired 
Franklin, who was wearying of this soliloquy. 

“I’m not talking to you,” answered Tann. “I’m 
thinking. ” 

“ Well, think in a whisper, if you don’t mind.” 

Franklin turned his back on his friend and centred 
his attention on the stage. Sadler ceased his com- 
ments, and, ignoring the progress of the opera, gazed 
into the half -lighted auditorium. 

There was a closely packed assemblage of heads, 
surmounting snowy shirt fronts and bare shoul- 
ders. Sadler philosophized like a Sartor-Eesartian 
sophist, less on the ethics of clothes, however, 
than on the apparent disregard of them by many of 
the ladies present. What would the fifteenth-cen- 
tury Marguerite have thought of this garden of semi- 
Eden attire? A sea of heads! Long lines of counte- 
nances merging and blending into one vague impres- 
sion of pallor through the obscurity ; eyes deeply in- 


54 


THE AMERICAK EAITST. 


tent on the picture of human weakness and perfidy 
exemplified on the stage ; that is what Sadler A. Tann 
saw from his sequestration. The house was hushed 
in interested stillness. One head moving occasionally 
towards another betokened whispered conversation; 
but no sound disturbed the spell woven by the 
strains of melody fioating through the auditorium. 
Suddenly a flaming piece of canvas fell from above, 
upon the stage, close by the singers. There was a 
short half-second of deathly silence, while each per- 
son in that vast concourse felt his heart halt midway 
in its beat and the blood recede from the veins, leav- 
ing the limbs stricken with a numbing coldness. 

Then came the awful cry of “ Fire !”— by whom 
raised none ever knew, and the throng, panic-stricken, 
poured towards the doors a vast wave of humanity. 
Too many, alas ! in the danger which is the test of true 
heroism, panted in despicable dread, trembled in 
every selfish fibre, not for the lives of others, but for 
themselves alone. Strong men, forgetful of their 
manhood and oblivious of all instincts of chivalry, 
trampled madly, blindly on weak women and helpless 
girls. 

Doors will not open ; bolts cannot be drawn ; corri- 
dors and stairways become choked with frenzied 
heaps of living creatures, wedged fast and hopelessly 
in the narrow passages, and, in their battling and 
yielding, screaming to God, or weeping in their 
importunity. 

The writhing sufferers cling to each other with the 
grasp of madness ! And yet, of what avail Avere a 
giant’s strength? 

Many imagine the saving of one to be the loss of 
all, and Avith thoughtless, despairing hands bear him 
doAAm, encompassing his doom and theirs. 

Up the stairs the crowd seethes, like AAmters in a vast 
cauldron, chasing round and round, under and oa^ er, 
Avith bubbling, hissing, and groaning. Women and 
men stumble and fall prostrate ; those behind, Avith the 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


55 


brutality of terror, endeavoring to make their bod- 
ies a step to safety. 

The crowd presses on and on, over the senseless 
and the dead ; cruel heels trample, unseeing and 
uncaring, on tender faces. Closer and closer they 
crush! Those from behind bear with concentrated 
weight and force on the living obstacles before. The 
scant width of the way, and the impassable rampart 
of the fallen, check further advance. If the walls 
would but burst from the fearful pressure as a dyke 
from the angry rush of waters ! ’ 

Then comes the darkness to hide the agony on their 
faces and to increase the awing fear at their hearts. 

Numbers gasp imploringly for air, white and suffo- 
cating, to find relief in insensibility ; with bruised and 
fractured limbs, with breath crushed out of the frail 
tenement of flesh and blood, inanimate forms are held 
erect in the throng and tossed about and clutched at 
with seeming hatred by those who in trembling con- 
sciousness fight for life on every side. Ivlon whose 
natures are saturated with the atheistic promulga- 
tions of the age, abased in spirit, call on God in their 
agony and fear ! 

Still that barricade of the fallen ! still the dead-lock 
of closely wedged corpses 1 

The fearful cries of the women, the heart-wrung 
groans of the men, the short, hard breathings of ex- 
haustion, and the half-smothered curses of the strong, 
whose power profits them naught, mingle in a horrid 
hell of sounds which no ear could endure, no pen 
describe. 

Meanwhile the flames advance ; the dry canvases, 
the old dust-covered scenes in the dock, and the sea- 
soned woodwork of the stage fall ready prey to the 
usurping foe. His progress is swift and irresistible. 
The tongues of fire already lick the sides of the pros- 
cenium, and long shoots of bright red-flame burst from 
the gilded traceries of the ceiling. Dark columns of 
filthy, rancid smoke roll from the raging furnace 


56 


THE AMEKICAH FAUST. 


behind the footlights and penetrate the corridors, 
where the conflict continues in all its horrors. 

The flames spread to the auditorium, the soft 
plushes and rich silks of the curtained boxes ignite as 
if by magic, and the vast area is soon radiant with 
the baleful glow. Eafters and stucco fall from the 
quivering roof. The crackling, rushing furnace 
grows second by second ; the Are has already reached 
the latest stragglers in the living mass. Ah, heaven, 
have mercy ! 

Where are Tann and Elliott ? 

They rose with the others when the heart-chilling 
word of warning rang through the house, but neither 
participated in the panic. Franklin’s gaze met Sad- 
ler’s, and they understood each other. 

For a brief period they stood watching the terri- 
fied rush, and Franklin’s usual assumed callousness 
fell away from him. 

“ Come out, Sadler,” he muttered; “ I can’t see such 
a scene without questioning God’s mercy.” 

They went outside their box into a passage not 
more than fifty inches wide, to ascertain in what 
manner their escape was to be effected. There was a 
small window about seven feet from the floor. Tann 
stood on Franklin’s shoulders, burst open the small 
panes, and looked out. 

“There is a fall of about forty feet into a small 
yard,” said Sadler, with imperturbable calmness. 

“ Forty feet!” said Elliott: “that’s a long distance; 
but we can do it with the help of our box curtains.” 

“ Good ! ” replied Tann; and Franklin let him down. 

They tore the two curtains down from the rings 
and firmly knotted them together. 

“ There’ll be two more in the next box,” said Tann. 

“I’ll get them in a second,” was Elliott’s reply. 

He entered the adjoining box, which was red Avith 
the lurid glare of the approaching fire. In the corner 
was a young girl on her knees in prayer; her face 
was pale, and her lips almost white, Avith the know- 


THE AMEEICAH FAUST. 


57 


ledge of impending doom. Despite her womanish ter- 
ror and trembling limbs, she was preparing to meet 
her doom with the noble resignation and unquestion- 
ing faith of a true believer. When she perceived 
Franklin she staggered to her feet and stretched out 
her hands to him in voiceless appeal. He drew her 
gently to his side and said reassuringly. 

“We will save you.” Quickly releasing her he tore 
down the curtains from the pole on which they hung. 

“ My dear parents, I shall never see them again,” 
faltered the girl to herself; but with a mighty eifort 
she repressed her grief. 

Franklin was busy. He had fastened the curtains 
together and with his foot on one was tightening the 
knot. 

“ Come with me,” he said, when the tie was secure; 
and the girl followed him. 

He rejoined Sadler and handed him the curtains. 
Sadler knotted all four together, first glancing in sur- 
prise at the girl. 

“Nearly long enough!” he observed, measuring 
the result of their labor with his eye. 

The three stood in the passage. Sadler climbed up 
to the window on Elliott’s shoulders and broke away 
all the woodwork. The window was small, scarce 
large enough for a broad man like Franklin to crawl 
through. 

“ Ready up there ? ” gasped Franklin. 

“Ready !” echoed Sadler. 

“ How far will there be to drop from the end of the 
rope ? ” asked Elliott. 

“From twelve to fifteen feet,” answered Sadler. 

“ Come down 1 ” shouted Franklin. 

Sadler descended. 

Franklin, lifting the girl up in his arms, raised her to 
the window. Small pieces of glass adhering to the 
casement cut the tender hands which held the rope, 
but she tightened her grasp, and Sadler payed out the 
improvised cable. The girl disappeared from sight. 


58 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


Tann let the rope out leisurely, and when near the end 
climbed again onto Franklin’s shoulders and held it 
out at arm’s-length, to lessen, as far as his reach 
allowed, the distance she would have to drop. 

“She’s safe,” he said to Franklin, “but sprained 
her ankle, I fancy.” 

“ I’ll go next,” said Franklin. 

Tann pulled up the curtains and joined Elliott on 
the floor. With his friend’s assistance Elliott clam- 
bered up the ledge and seized the rope with his firm 
grasp. 

“ Let’er go, Gallagher,” he said, and down he went 
slowly and surely, hand over hand. Being the hea- 
vier of the two, his weight finally balanced Tann, who 
of course was holding the end up at the window, 
whence he flippantly remarked, “See you later.” 

Then Elliott dropped, close on twenty feet it must 
have been ; but the inmates of the house to which the 
yard belonged had provided a feather bed to break 
the fall. A little shaken, he got on his feet again 
and enquired for the young lady. She was within 
the house. 

Franklin entered hnd found her lying on a dingy 
horse-hair sofa, calm and tearless, too dazed as 
yet to realize the change which had come over her 
life. She endeavored to rise when he approached, but 
it was evident her ankle pained her. There was also 
a deep cut two or three inches above the shoulder, 
caused probably by a piece of the broken glass. It 
was bleeding profusely, but the good people of the 
house were ready with assistance and remedies. The 
wound showed dark against the fair skin, which 
was scarcely concealed by the laces of her gown, and 
Franklin was indignant at somebody or something, 
he didn’t quite know what. That scar was his doing, 
he concluded, thinking somewhat sadly that in that 
scar the memory of the dreadful catastrophe which 
left her an orphan and gave her a friend himself ) 
would never die. 


THE AHERICAH FAUST. 


59 


“You are a brave girl,” said Franklin, in that 
quiet tone of commendation which from him carried 
so much weight. 

She tried to smile at him, but her mouth twitched 
nervously and the tears began to flow down her 
cheeks. Franklin was surprised at the effect of his 
speech. It had turned the tide of her feelings. She 
had borne up heroically through all, until his simple 
words had loosed the flood-gates of her soul, bringing 
the blessed relief of tears. 

Franklin, with a new, indefinable feeling at his heart, 
which had in it something of responsibility, put his 
arm around her and stroked her head in a tender, 
fatherly way. Honest, manly sympathy it was, if 
nothing more. The poor, heart-broken girl submitted 
to his caress like a confiding child, and for a brief 
period she sobbed out her grief on his shoulder. 
Then he left her to the ministerings of the good 
ladies of the house, and awaited their pleasure in the 
adjoining room. 

He had more than enough to reflect upon, in his 
own affairs, but his mind had enlarged its scope. 
Self was put away into an obscure corner, to be 
debated at odd moments when other important sub- 
jects were wanting. 

He asked himself if the Providence, which sees the 
fall of the sparrow, had led him to the doomed 
theatre in order to save this ideal picture of budding 
womanhood. He liked to think so. 

Her sorrow touched him as though in part his own, 
and he made a mental vow to watch over the safety 
of the desolate orphan he had rescued. He called one 
of the servants of the house to him and asked him to 
get a carriage. Franklin supported his new charge to 
the door, and gently lifted her upon the soft cushions 
and ordered the man to drive to the Trans- Atlantique. 

H<sts****** 

To his surprise he discovered from the clerk that 
she was staying there; her parents’ name and her’s 


60 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


were on the hotel register : Mr. and Mrs. Woods and 
Miss Woods. Franklin conducted her to her room, 
left her with two sympathetic chamber-maids, and 
then, uselessly but well-meaningly , had every delicacy 
there was in the hotel taken up to her. When sure 
she would be well cared for, he strode out of the hotel 
in the direction of the opera house, to find Tann. 
The fire was now at its height, the whole building 
wreathed and festooned with flames. It was a gloomy, 
threatening night, and the low clouds caught the 
ruddy glare and spread in a dull, crimson pall over 
the whole city. Innumerable fire-engines were on 
the scene. Countless jets of water were being poured 
upon the doomed building; like veritable fire-fiends 
the pompiers crawled from casement to casement, 
their faces blackened with the smoke and scorched 
with the heat. Body after body was rescued from 
the furnace, to lie unrecognized, unclaimed. From 
every quarter of the city poured the crowds of anxious 
sightseers ; from every den and alley came the scum 
of the great city, surging and screaming and yelling 
with various emotions. Down fell a mighty burning 
beam from the roof, and a shower of gleaming, blaz- 
ing sparks scattered broadcast in the heavens. The 
architecture of the theatre was traced in flame. Inside 
there was a rushing, heaving, swirling whirlpool of 
fire, dashing against the denuded walls like waves 
against a breakwater. In time the heat prevailed, and 
on the side overlooking the street the wall bulged and 
threatened to fall. The crowd swayed in terror and 
those in front attempted to get back ; the wall tottered, 
crumbled and hurled itself with crushing weight upon 
the screaming concourse below. There was a repetition 
of the panic which had reigned within the burning 
theatre; many were injured, some few killed. 

Long into the night the fire burned. 

With the faint streaks of dawn the conflagration, 
impossible of subjection, had spent itself, and the 
crowd gradually thinned away. Of the theatre there 


THE AMEEICAH EAUST. 


61 


remained only two blackened walls, standing like 
gaunt, miserable skeletons ; the rest a heap of 
smouldering masonry, charred beams, and twisted 
girders, beneath which lay many who, a few short 
hours before, had planned a cheerful future for their 
lives, and had formed their gladsome pictures of what 
was to be. And now I their plans and happy pictures, 
hopes and aspirations, dreads and fears, all dead! 
Ambitions, strivings, hates, and loves consumed with 
them in the ruins 1 

Franklin- found Sadler sitting on the steps of a 
house opposite the scene of the disaster, his head sup- 
ported on his hands, his arms propped upon his knees, 
his whole attitude betokening thought. 

Franklin, in no mood for sleep, sat down by his 
side and waited for him to speak. He did at last. 
Turning to Franklin he remarked, with a laconic 
brevity which gave a key to his long spell of 
reflection, “I’m sick of the whole business.” 


CHAPTER V. 


IN WHICH TANN POSES AS A FRIEND OF MAN, AND 
MEETS THE JUST REWARD OF HYPOCRISY. 

There they sat for hours as silent as obelisks ; the 
clouds which had threatened rain floated away to 
shed their moisture in other lands, and the sky 
cleared. Four o’clock rang out in solemn sonorousness 
from the spire of Notre Dame, other chimes chanted 
the self-same hour in brazen chorus, and then the city 
slumbered again. Low down in the east the dark 
blue of night paled before the day’s approaching 
glory; the broad roseate shafts sped swiftly across 
the arch of heaven, and the hosts of darkness trem- 
bling fled. Dawn gave place to day, and leaving 
Paris to the cheerful light, the advance guard of 
Phoebus marched farther west, routing the night as 
it went. 

Tann and Franklin watched the last flames die 
amongst the heaps, saw the firemen pouring copious 
streams upon the smouldering mounds of cinders, and 
the former, chilled from exposure and hungry from 
long fasting, took his companion’s arm and walked 
rapidly towards their hotel. By five they were in 
bed ; five minutes later both were asleep. Franklin, 
wearied though he was, actually said his prayers be- 
fore retiring. Being a seasoned, careless specimen 
of manhood at best, it was not a rule with him to 
perform such small offices, but a narrow escape from 
death called for gratitude to some one, and even if the 
saving teas due to infernal agency, was not the agent 
a standing, incontrovertible proof of the existence of 
an omnipotent Providence ? The sceptics who 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


63 


chance on these pages must take the devil as a 
motive for the hero’s exceptional nicety on more than 
one occasion. 

At the risk of being accused of flippancy, we will 
neglect the serious opportunities created by the 
tragedy of our last chapter and exploit the lighter 
vein deemed more indicative of wisdom. Hence, if 
we touch almost imperceptibly on our heroine’s 
sorrow, be lenient to us and take for granted more 
than is written about her. 

She’s a dear little thing, is Violet Woods. When 
we were introduced to her we decided that; and a 
long acquaintance has afforded us no excuse for 
altering our opinion. 

She was neither blond nor brunette ; her hair 
borrowed the salient beauties of both. She was fair 
when the sunlight rested on her head, and dark in 
the shade. If you think the description absurd, 
smile 1 Her eyes were of a deep, tender brown, with a 
sufficiency of gravity to spice the mirth ; her nose 
was of no particular nationality, though it had a 
tendency to the classic Greek, which we think more 
suitable to femininity than the Eoman type. But her 
mouth! Would that we could call in some artist, who 
is not too busily engaged in idealizing users of soap 
or weavers of complexions, to pour out the artistic 
instincts of his soul in a picture of it ! Small, arched, 
childish, but self-reliant I Firm but sympathetic, 
impressionable but steadfast, all contradiction, and 
lovable for its very contrariness. Pah ! it’s^ no use 
attempting to convey her charm in words; only 
those who know her can comprehend the drift of 
our inanities. 

During the succeeding weeks Franklin was brought 
into frequent communication with her, and quite 
unconsciously fell under the spell of her delightful 
child-like gravity. 

Even Tann, though in secret hating her for her pur- 
ity and the atmosphere of unobtrusive goodness she 


G4 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


seemed to bring with her, was compelled to admit 
that she was a very nice little girl ; not so attractive 
perhaps as Cleopatra or Helen of Troy, but still for a 
life-partner undeniably more satisfactory. 

However, while, out of respect for Miss Woods’ sor- 
row, we pursue our course for a time without her, we 
can still fill in with Tann and Franklin. 

The latter was the first down to breakfast in the 
ordinary the next morning. He was discussing a 
veal- cutlet disguised in some extraordinary manner, 
when Sadler entered adjusting his cravat. 

“Might dress yourself before you come down,” 
was our hero’s morning greeting to the immortal 
one. 

Tann accepted the rebuke in silence; sat down on 
the other side of the table and spread out a newspaper 
with the intention of reading a full account of the 
last evening’s disaster. 

“ Shocking ! Horrible! Five hundred dead ! ” said 
Sadler, rubbing his hands gleefully, and chuckling to 
himself. 

“Well! what is it?” asked Franklin, with evi- 
dent meaning in his tone ; but Tann deemed it advis- 
able to moderate his enjoyment. 

“I’ve an appointment at the morgue after break- 
fast,” he stated. 

“ It’s a place that ought to fit your style of humor, 
Tann.” 

“This is a dreary world,” sighed Sadler, “and 
any style of humor should be acceptable.” 

“ In default of better. Unfortunately for your suc- 
cess as a funny man, my friend, there are scores of 
after-dinner humorists who can give you points and 
beat you.” 

“ What dy’e intend doing about the girl ? ” queried 
S.A., turning the conversation. 

“Miss Woods is capable of making her own ar- 
rangements. It will be merely my pleasure to carry 
them out.” 


THE AMEKICAH FAUST. 


65 


Oh, how tbiiching ! ” sneered Tann. “ How’s the 
Ipoor ankle ? 

“ It’s ho business of yours.” 

“Ohlf!” 

X long silence followed this monosyllabic remark. 

"Sadler was the first to break it : 

'“If I’m not back by dinner-time you’ll know I’m 
dining out. Good-morning. ” 

His Satanic Majesty retired from the breakfast ta- 
ble, donned his hat, took his walking-stick and passed 
out into the bustle of the city. 

Elliott sent his card up to Miss Woods. 

She consented to see him ; but their conversation was 
of necessity sad, and as we desire to spare our readers 
all possible sorrow, it is best unrecorded. 

As the day wore on, Franklin, wandering about in 
listless way, fell into reveries over the brown eyes, and 
the nose of slightly Greek tendency, and — Oh ! hang 
it ! every man has been in love some time or other? 
and, no matter what the color of the eyes or the set 
of the nose, the lover’s sentiment is just the same. 

Besides, Franklin was hardly that far gone ; he was 
at the head of the incline, ready for the downward 
course, but he was still stationary. 

At half-past seven Elliott sat down to his solitary 
dinner; but solitude did not blunt the keen edge of 
his table-d’hote appetite. 

Tann’s absence spared him the incessant and oft- 
times jarring rattle of that worthy’s tongue, and be- 
tween courses he could dream in a vague way of 
vague things. 

After spending an unusually long time over dinner 
he provided himself with cigars and went out to re- 
fresh his lungs in the purer atmosphere of the street. 

The air of Paris varies according to location ; it is 
as picturesque to the nasal organ as a Neapolitan ice 
to the eye, 

Bounding different street-corners you get different . 
flavors; now a Phre whiff of heaven’s best; now a 


66 


THE AMERIOAH FAUST. 


whiff of river-mud, or a zephyr laden with vegetable 
decomposition, or some other odor, not the more wel- 
come because unexpected. In the daytime this di- 
versity is lost in the distractions of city life, but in 
the evening of a hot summer’s day, when the side- 
streets are deserted and civilization is concentrated on 
the boulevards and in cafes, the most unobservant of 
travellers must notice it. Please understand that we 
are speaking not of the main thoroughfares or the 
boulevards, but of the less important channels of 
commercial enterprise. 

It’s wonderful, the distance a pedestrian can trav- 
erse when he has a pipe or a cigar with him. The 
cloud of smoke which he blows seems to indicate that 
the furnace is in full blast and that steam is at a high 
pressure ; but when the cigar shortens to an untimely 
end his speed slackens, and shortly after the rejection 
of the stump he is apt to come to a standstill. 

Franklin moved along with a long, swinging stride 
which took him over the ground very quickly, and 
when he thought it time to turn back, was probably 
four miles from his hotel, where we will leave him 
to find his way back. For we are neglecting Tann, 
and Tann may feel hurt. Tann had wandered too. 
He had passed the afternoon sentimentalizing by 
the tomb of the great Napoleon, and bird’s-eye-view- 
ing from the top of the Arc de Triomphe, both of 
which were new to him. He had his dinner in a 
restaurant, and after surprising the regular patrons 
by the insatiability of his n\aw, and earning the ill- 
disguised contempt of the waiter for the smallness of 
the douceur^ wandered about much as Franklin did 
later. This peregrination led him into the lower quar- 
ter of the town, lower not topographically, but socially 
speaking. There the streets were narrow and the 
houses high and old-fashioned. The sun was still con- 
siderably above the western horizon, but it was twi- 
light in the remains of old Paris. Tann, happening on 
this interesting, picturesque “bit,” felt constrained 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


67 


to rake the soil of his memory over to bring the older 
recollections uppermost. He fancied that he recog- 
nized that hostelry at the corner block, the Oriflamme : 
yes ; it was a celebrated inn in Faust’s time. It was 
the Bonnet Rouge now. 

The old house with the coat-of-arms over the low, 
narrow door was once that of the Due d’lvrogues ! 
How things have altered in the last century ! The long 
reign of inaction has ceased, and the third estate has 
roused itself to the belief that it is as capable as the 
first or second, and has as good a right to respect 
and riches. The trouble begins only when the extre- 
mists lead the gregarious third to think that it has a 
better right to breathe on the earth than the parasites, 
the gold-grabbing capitalists, and the lazy, contempti- 
ble vermin who enjoy the fruits of parental industry. 
While Sadler, steeped in meditation, pondered over 
the sloping roofs, low rooms, diamond-paned windows, 
and dark beams adorning the outer mediaevalism of 
the buildings, the Bonnet Rouge was thriving. Num- 
bers of rough-looking men entered the inn, some 
washed, but the majority in their blue blouses and the 
addendum of dirt customary after a day’s work. 
“Wake up, citizen!” 

It was an unfamiliar voice Sadler heard, but the 
tone was familiar. He turned round and a horny- 
handed son of toil winked at him and addressed him 
again. 

“ Lost your way, my brother? ” 

“ Oh, no; thank you! ” replied Sadler, sweetlj^ 
“From the provinces? ” 

“No.” 

“ I thought you had a Brittany accent.” 

“Maybe I have; but it must be through taking 
Brittany butter with my bread; I prefer it to any 
other. I have never lived in that part of the country. ” 
“ Where do you come from? ” 

“ Well,” answered Sadler, gravely, “ you come from 
where I’m going to— it there is such a place,” 


68 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“ Bah! You are a friend of the people, I hope.” 

‘ Sir, ’’exclaimed Tann, grandiloquently, “I am for 
the brawn of a nation ruling a nation. ‘ The people ’ 
is God, and if the people likes, it is all-powerful.” 

“Good, my friend! Come with me. Hear me 
speak. I am no educated fop, no desk-taught peda- 
gogue ; but I have within me the magnetism for the 
multitude. I can sway a crowd ; with my little finger 
I hold the sword over the aristocrats and the bourgeois. 
You love the bourgeois, perhaps ? ” 

“ I hate all men: high or low, black, white, or red ! 
Whatever their creed, whatever their hue, good or 
bad, I hate them ! ” 

“Very good! All men are fools. Follow me, and 
I will show you something. ” 

Our poor unsophisticated devil followed his new 
acquaintance down the street; at the Bonnet Rouge 
he halted, took Sadler by the arm, and turned inside. 
Up a wide oaken staircase, with a broad balustrade 
colored a deep brown from age and varnish, they pro- 
ceeded ; arrived at the landing they walked along, and 
opposite the foot of the second flight was a door, 
whence issued sounds of revelry and a confused 
murmur of voices. 

“ I am Renny,” said Tann’s new acquaintance. 

“ I am Marchand,” informed Sadler, concealing his 
identity for a variety of reasons. 

“Jean, or Jacques, or Raoul, or what?” asked 
Renny. 

‘ Yes, Jean will do as well as anything else.” 

“Pardon!” 

“ Yes, Jean it is.” 

Renny pushed open the door and on the threshold 
bowed his head to the storm of applause which greeted 
his appearance. 

He strode down the long, low-ceilinged room, Tann 
close on his heels, and seated himself on a chair at one 
end of the long table. He offered Sadler a seat on his 
right hand, and, preparatory to the business of the eve- 


THE AMEUICAK FAUST. 


69 


ning, whispered a hurried account of the gathering : 
that it was purely a workmen’s club, that their views 
were extremely extreme, and that the hated police 
watched them and compelled them to moderate the 
fierceness of their utterances ; but that this evening 
the ofiicer was one of them, etc., etc. 

It was a custom with these workingmen to meet 
every Thursday evening to condemn the govern- 
ment; it didn’t hurt the government an J it amused 
them. 

Tann’s appearance in their midst was a source of 
disquietude to them ; his tweed suit was so unmistak- 
ably fashionable, his sallow face so sleek and evidently 
well-cared-for, that it seemed impossible he could be 
an anarchist ; but Eenny was with him, so the ex- 
planation would be sure to be satisfactory. 

The pet orator rose and struck the table twice. 
That was the signal for silence. After a deliberate 
pause, fiUed up by passing his long, bony fingers 
through his kinky black hair, Eenny spoke, and his 
first remark was greeted with more than the ordinary 
enthusiasm. 

“ My— our, I may say— aristocratic guest has 
signified a desire to pay for drinks for the Brother- 
hood.” 

The shout which greeted this statement was equal 
to that patriotic specialty, a hearty British cheer. 

Eenny knocked on the table again. “ Silence 1 
Moreover Jean Marchand wishes each honest artisan 
to name his own particular fancy : whether it be the 
aristocratic Champagne, or Burgundy, or Bordeaux, 
Chablis or Macon, Chateau-Lafitte or Chateau-la 
Eose ; the cellars of the world are at your disposal 
to hide your grievances in. ” 

Here the cheering renewed itself with great vi- 
olence, and lasted until the proprietor appeared to 
learn the cause. 

As a hundred voices commenced ordering at the 
same instant, the din became deafening, but Eenny 


70 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


knocked on the table with the crock match-holder, 
and quietness ensued. 

“ The waiter will go all round, and each citizen will 
have the goodness to whisper his requirements.” 

The proprietor vanished, and two waiters succeeded 
him, with paper and pencil to take down the multi- 
tudinous imbibements. Kenny, in this half-silence 
essayed to speak. 

“Citizens, we have met here so often, and have voted 
the same resolutions of ‘ Death to the Capitalists ’ and 
‘ A bas la Bourgeoisie’ so frequently, that any variation 
may possibly meet with your approval.” 

Hear I hear I or the French equivalent, from 
several. The main body was too absorbed in the 
delights revealed to them by the wine-list to pay 
much attention. 

“I have enlarged your minds on the enormities 
perpetrated by the moneyed class; I have dem- 
onstrated to you the sordid avarice which influences 
every movement of the bloated monopolist ; and you 
have believed in my tirades, my denunciations, my 
vuthering sarcasms.” 

His criticism of his own sarcastic powers was 
modest, to say the least. 

“Though I have said the same thing in different 
words time and oft, you, with an indulgence 
which does credit to your intelligence, are never 
weary of hearing me. They call us the vulgar herd, 
as if we were so many cattle ; we are no more cattle 
than those who live by the pen. There is nothing 
degrading in labor; nothing ignoble in dirt when it is 
honestly acquired ; and yet they collect all the con- 
temning words in the language and empty them in a 
heap of foul garbage on our heads, these blood-sucking 
vampires ! these sordid, carrion-loving vultures ! these 
vermin in the fur of nature ! But I forget, in my nat- 
ural indignation at your sufferings, the purpose for 
which I am standing here. It is to introduce Jean 
Marchand to you ; to let you hear from his own lips 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


71 


how he has abjured his heresies, how he has dedi- 
cated his life to the people, and has sworn by his 
father’s grave in Pere la Chaise to have vengeance 
on the nobles for what he will tell you. Waiter, a 
demi-bouteille of Moselle for myself and friend.” 

The friend was Sadler, who was figuring up the 
probable total of his wine bill. 

The end of Penny’s speech was greeted with the 
usual noises of- approbation, which died away when 
Mr. Tann arose and pawed the air for attention. 

. “Gentlemen,” began Sadler, “ that title— generally 
linked with the possession of blue blood — is the prerog- 
ative of any man who behaves himself, and ” [“ Bra- 
vo! Bravo!”] “is as much your right as anybody’s 
else. Our mutual friend Penny has told you that I 
am an aristocrat. It is true ” — here Tann bowed his 
head in shame — “but it is not my fault. Am I to 
blame because I have a genealogical tree? ” [ Cries of 
“ No!”] 

“ Besides, I have cut down the tree, and, in coming 
here this evening, I prove a desire to extract the very 
roots from the soil. What credit is there to you in 
being angered against the wealthy ? Little ; but I — I 
stand on a high pedestal of sincerity when I say, 

‘ Down with the wealthy ! ’ Some credit is due to 
me — but alas !”— here he sighed — “it’s a bad debt which 
I never hope to collect. Listen to me ! I am by right a 
duke; but I have abjured my dukedom.” Thereupon 
he launched forth into one of those anecdotes which 
have justly earned him the title of the father of lies- 
“ In my early days I was a sailor in the navy; I was 
a midshipman on board La Belle Helene. An elder 
brother was heir to the family title. After two years’ 
service, our vessel was wrecked in a typhoon in the 
Malay Archipelago, and was lost with all hands — mine 
amongst the number. But though lost, we— some of 
us — escaped with otir lives to a small island, one of an 
insignificant group, hundreds of miles from any habi- 
table spot. For ten weary years I resided on that 


THE IMERICAIT FAUST. 


72 

sand bar with my few companions. By degrees they 
died away like the echoes of cannon-reports at sea, 
and I was left alone. In fine, I was discovered and 
taken back to my beloved France. My brother was 
dead, and a cousin was wearing the title as comfort- 
ably and unsuitably as he would a cast-off coat of 
mine ; it didn’t fit him at all. I requested him to 
give up and vacate ; he laughingly replied with some 
indecent remark about possession and nine points of 
the law. I brought him into court, and those nine 
points were prodded into me and into the judge, 
until the case was thrown out. They couldn’t prove 
I was an impostor, and I could not prove I wasn’t, and 
the possession carried the day. That is why I hate 
the aristocracy; this common, ruddy-faced, porcine 
noble lives in the branches of my family tree, and I 
am forbidden to wallow in the dead leaves. Oh, my 
brothers ! what is material loss to sentimental loss ? 
It is immaterial. In my misfortune I have discov- 
ered that a blue blouse is better than blue blood ; fain 
would I don that honorable garb, but that I dare not 
labor with my hands, though I live by my hands. I 
am a pianist.” 

This unblushing lie earned him a world of sympa- 
thy. 

“I dabble in nocturnes and rhapsodies, but in 
spirit my hand is on the trowel and my heart is mix- 
ing mortar. You have heard my story, and I trust 
that I may be allowed a worker’s post at the next bar- 
ricade. I hope to be foremost in storming the banks 
and the pawnbrokers; and to show my sympathy 
with the Social Eevolution, here is my subscription.” 

Tann drew out his pocket-book and placed three or 
four bills to a good amount on the table, but there 
were eager eyes which saw the considerable sum he 
carefully replaced in his breast-pocket. 

Eenny bowed to the applause which Tann had 
earned, and seizing his face in his greasy paws, 
kissed him. 


THE AMEEICAH FAUST. 


7a 

Sadier was silent under the infliction, but secretly 
in great trepidation lest the crowd should elect to fol- 
low the orator’s example. He need not have troubled 
himself ; the majority were not ripe for sacriflces of 
that nature. 

After hearing a few long-winded dissertations, and 
assisting in the passing of a unanimous vote of de- 
struction to monopolists, and of surgical treatment to 
the moneyed warts on the hands of toil, the meeting 
disbanded and dribbled away to its tenements. Seve- 
ral of the members lingered behind to drink at 
Tann’s expense, Renny amongst the number. About 
half-past twelve Sadler declared his intention of 
going home, and although two of his newly made 
acquaintances offered to accompany him, he declined 
with firmness. 

“Good-night, Renny! Good-night, brothers !” said 
Sadler, cheerily. “ Good-night !” hailed the brothers 
in chorus; and Mr. Tann — Marchand the pianist — 
stepped out into the street. 

By this time Franklin had discovered his error, 
and was striving to repair it by finding a cab. But, 
although it had been raining a thin, penetrating 
drizzle for some minutes, such a luxury as a vehicle 
was unobtainable. 

The rain saluted Mr. Tann as he left the Bonnet 
Rouge, but he turned up the collar of his coat and 
strode along indifferently. Two of the Brotherhood 
followed at a respectful distance. Not knowing 
Tann’s ignorance of the locality, the revolutionary 
gentlemen were puzzled by his movements and eccen- 
tric manoeuvres, his studying the names of the streets 
and palpable hesitation at the corners. Tann hustled 
along occasionally, hoping to meet some one to direct 
him, but he could never get near enough to enquire his 
way of them. He was hardly nervous, in spite of the 
dark, threatening, evil aspect of many of the alleys 
and courts he passed ; his two friends still followed in 
the deeper gloom close to the houses. The streets 


74 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


were now on a sharp decline, showing that the river 
was close at hand ; the buildings were chiefly ware- 
houses and mercantile ofiices, as busy in the day as 
they were quiet and deserted at night. Heaps of ref- 
use, mouldering straw, and diseased vegetables decked 
the gutters, accentuating the unsociable surround- 
ings ; infrequent low-looking wine-shops, from which 
sounds of revelry and boisterous laughter issued, 
relieved the gloom reigning between the far-apart 
street lamps. Sadler hurried along, ignorant that his 
late associates were quickening their pace to overtake 
him. 

The road led him to the river, as he supposed, 
affording him an opportunity to locate himself, by 
recognizing buildings along the banks. On the right 
the street took a narrow turn between a dreary ware- 
house and the flrst approaches of the bridge ; this led 
to a wharf and a narrow footpath under the flrst 
arch. The quarter not being fashionable, the light- 
ing facilities were few, and, on the bridge as well as 
under it, darkness held its own without opposition. It 
was the plan of the two friends of man to cut Tann 
off from the bridge and run him down to the edge of 
the quay, where, after having collected more money 
for “the cause,” they could with ease drop him into 
the Seine. This delicate attention was frustrated by 
Sadler’s fleetness of foot. The friends and brothers 
were about flve yards behind when he gained the 
bridge. Not to be baffled, however, they started 
after him at a trot. Tann was concluding to infuse 
cheerfulness into himself by means of a cigarette, and 
was searching his pockets for a match, when the 
brotherhood reached him. The larger of the two 
ruffians raised a weighted walking-stick and brought 
it down with terrific force on Sadler’s head, crushing 
through his derby hat and denting his skull very 
severely. Without a sound Tann fell forward upon 
his face. 

“ Very good, Pierre!” said the short ruffian. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


Peste/ A weak blow! He is only stunned, my 
friend. I thought to kill him,” rejoined Pierre. 
“Either his skull is more than ordinary thick, or 
my arm has lost its strength, Eoger.” 

“ What matter? A stun is as good as a kill. Here 
is the money.” Roger had turned the insensible body 
over and had searched the pockets with success. 

“ Now drop him over into the river.” 

“Ah no! show mercy as you expect it, my dear 
comrade ! ’’ 

“ I don’t expect it. Bah ! will they lessen our term 
because we were too chicken-hearted to finish our 
job !” 

“ Your arguments are always convincing, my little 
Pierre.” 

The pseudo-political agitators raised the insensi- 
ble body in their arms and rested it on the balustrade 
of the bridge. 

“Good-bye — my brother,” said Roger, in burlesque 
melodramatic tones; “we shall meet again in heaven 
— or — ” 

“ New Caledonia,” said Pierre. 

“Very good for you ! Ah! our friend here will 
know too soon whether there is a devil or not.” 

Meanwhile a pedestrian had been rapidly approach- 
ing from the other end of the bridge, but so engrossed 
were the two villains in their work that he was 
almost on them before they perceived him. 

“ Hist ! we are seen ! ” whispered Pierre. “ Let us 
run ! ” 

“Good ! start on.” 

Pierre needed no second admonition ; Roger, on 
the other hand, lingered sufficiently to give their 
victim a rough push, which rolled him off the parapet 
and launched him into the flowing tide, twenty feet 
below. 

“Hallo there !” shouted the new-comer, as Roger 
took to his heels. “ What’s wrong ?” 

He rushed to the balustrade and looked over just in 


tHE AMERICAiT FAUST?. 


% 

time to see an Inanimate form whirling in an eddy 
and strike with force against one of the buttresses. 
There it remained for a brief interval, while Frank- 
lin — for the average reader will have guessed it was 
he— decided that saving the victim was preferable to 
punishing the ruffians. Off went his coat, vest, hat, 
boots ; with a light leap he bounded onto the parapet, 
and, not more than touching with his right foot, pro- 
pelled himself into the dark water beneath. He sank, 
rose almost immediately, and struck out for the cen- 
tral support of the bridge, the stonework of which 
was shielded by wooden piles covered with slippery 
green slime and rank weeds. It was here he had last 
seen the body; the force of the current had carried 
down quite a quantity of drift which was collected 
against the buttress. The stream parted on either 
side, leaving comparatively motionless water close to 
the piles ; Franklin swam to this spot, judging from 
the behavior of the drifting wood that the body would 
probably be carried against the central supports by 
the converging of the currents. A man who can 
without a moment’s deliberation jump into an un- 
known stream at midnight, and then calmly reason 
and argue for and against his premises, must be 
decidedly out of the common. His hypothesis was 
correct, for the body was under the driftwood, as he 
had anticipated. With frantic desperation, knowing 
that each second of submersion rendered the work 
of restoration more difficult, he thrust aside the logs, 
seized the insensible man by the hair, and, giving him- 
self an impetus into mid-stream, by shoving off from 
the arch-side with his feet, struck out boldly for the 
nearer shore. Recent rains had infused a little anima- 
tion into the Seine, and the current was strong enough 
to carry him through the bridge as far as the wharf be- 
fore mentioned. There was a boarded incline to the 
river, the extremity of which stood more than three 
feet above the water. This seemed to be the only 
chance; burdened as he was, he could not hope to 










THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


7? 


swim down tho stream in search of a better landing- 
place. He kept his head up with some difficulty now, 
for he was getting fatigued. Neither a ring, nor a stray 
chain, nor any means of lifting himself and freight 
onto terra-firma could he find. But help came from 
a most unexpected quarter. The corpse opened its 
eyes and revived with a rapidity which was super- 
human. 

“This is a lively predicament I’m in,” it remarked. 

Franklin started! “Surely I know that voice,” 
he thought. 

“If ever I see those fiends in human shape — ” 

“Look here, Tann,” interrupted Elliott; “kindly 
recuperate out of the water ; I’m tired of holding you 
up.” 

“Where am I?” 

“ In Seine — temporarily, I hope.” 

Tann, who was unable to swim, was a past-master in 
the art of fioating in air, water, or any other element ; 
so he inflated himself and ascended heavenwards to 
the level of the ground. Then he stretched out his 
hand to Franklin and pulled him ashore. 

“Wait a bit, while I get my coat and boots,” 
requested Elliott ; and together they walked up onto 
the bridge through the rain, which had degenerated 
from a dull drizzle into a lively downpour. Wet in 
every garment alike, they stood waiting for a passing 
vehicle, 

‘‘ How did it happen ?” asked Elliott, 

“ I cannot tell you,” replied Tann; “but I shall 
have my report to-morrow morning, and I am not 
committing myself to anything rash when I say that 
things will be warm for eoraebody.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


IN WHICH TANN BECOMES AN EQUESTRIAN AND HAS A 
FALL. 

The reader may fancy that he has detected us in an 
incongruous absurdity in having our heroine saved, 
and her parents, whom she had accompanied to the 
theatre, burned. And it will be well, perhaps, to clear 
ourselves in the minds of our readers by explaining, 
as Violet explained to Franklin, how she came to be 
deserted on the night of the fire. 

Mr. Woods was a retired merchant, whose otium 
cum dignitate had its headquarters on Fifth Avenue, 
New York, four houses from the one in which Frank- 
lin’s married sister resided. Indeed, Violet Woods 
and Franklin’s sister had been in the same convent 
together, though Miss Elliott was one of the big girls 
at the head of the school, and Miss Woods was a little 
thing, not in double figures. 

Violet was close on eighteen when her parents, pre- 
paratory to bringing their daughter out in society, 
deemed it judicious to finish her education by add- 
ing a touch of cosmopolitanism. To this end they 
planned a European tour. 

On the second day of their sojourn in Paris a cruel 
destiny had drawn them to the ill-fated opera house. 
Her father, in escorting his wife and daughter along 
the Rue Mirabeau, had encountered an American 
friend who was going to the opera that evening, and 
it was more to meet him than from any anticipation 
of pleasure to be derived from the opera, that they 
had taken one of the few private boxes spared from 
the advance sale. 

Two yards more between Mr. Woods and his friend, 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


79 


and the former might have turned into another 
street and have escaped the rencontre. Had he 
walked on the sunny side instead of the shady, the 
Angel of Death would have passed him over, and 
that other Angel of Love would have lost one of his 
most agreeable tasks. 

In the middle of the third act Violet’s mother and 
father were temporarily occupying the friend’s box, 
she being too entranced with the music to care to 
accompany them. Then, the panic — and all hopes of 
being united again on earth destroyed! That was 
the whole story. And they had been so happy a few 
short hours before! The air was so fresh and joyous, 
and the birds were singing so blithely on every 
bough, as they drove through the Bois I Who could 
suppose that in one evening the whole fabric of hap- 
piness would be shattered? 

Franklin learned thus where he had seen her be- 
fore, and it pleased him to remember how he had 
admired her in that first glimpse. He was puzzled 
to know what to do ; how to act on her behalf. Her . 
friends and relations in New York had been apprised 
by cable of the calamity which had befallen her, but 
some time must elapse before their intentions could 
be known, and meanwhile he was in a very awkward 
situation. A young man cannot very well devote his 
entire leisure to a pretty young lady without conclu- 
sions being drawn. Franklin felt this. That didn’t 
help him ; but it impelled him to exhibit a reserve and 
a formality he was far from desiring, and, what w as 
worse, it induced him to curtail the pleasure he 
derived from being in her society. 

On leaving Miss Woods that morning, Elliott went 
down to the billiard-room to find Sadler. That gen- 
tleman had become a perfect lunatic on the game. 
He could not make the simplest carom, his knowl- 
edge of side was less than elementary, and yet he 
fancied himself an adept. 

Franklin discovered him playing with a stranger. 


80 


THE AMEBICAH EAUST. 


It was the second game; Sadler had won the first by- 
three points, and the unknown offered to play him 
for one hundred francs, an offer which Tann accepted. 

The usual result I Sadler handled his cue once in 
his lead off, the other gentleman finished the game in 
one break, so S. A. lost his temper and called his 
adversary “ a low, contemptible cad.” Elliott arrived 
on the scene just in time to prevent bloodshed. He 
forcibly dragged Tann away in spite of his struggles 
and wriggles. 

“ Serves you right,” was the only consolation Tann 
received for the loss of his money. “Nobody but a 
jay undertakes to defeat a stranger on his own invita- 
tion when there’s money staked. Besides” — Frank- 
lin laughed— “it is owing to your temptations that 
this man is a nefarious bunco.” 

‘ ‘ What’s a bunco ? ” interrogated Sadler. 

“A bunco is a confidence man, a beguiler of inno- 
cents, a bird of prey who masquerades in the guise of 
a sucking-dove.’^ 

“ Oh I Well, 1 didn’t tempt him to practice his dis- 
honesty on me.” 

“ That being the case, it follows that the devil is 
not a moral necessity.” 

“Ugh!” grunted S. A. “Some damned under- 
strapper of mine has been prospecting around on his 
own account ; which reminds me, I had an interview 
with Abaddon last night— he’s on the Paris circuit. 
He’s one of my most active imps ; often mistaken for 
me. He explained to me how it was I was set upon 
and robbed last night. It was his doing, but it 
seems he didn’t recognize me. Ha! ha!” Sadler 
laughed. “I’m avenged. One of my murderers has 
killed the other. It was most laughable the way it 
happened. Abaddon took the pocket-book from the 
big one’s pocket, that’s Eoger’s, and when Pierre, the 
little one, asked for it he couldn’t find it; so he 
accused Pierre of stealing It, The other retorted 
hotly, ^nd Eoger knifed hirq, It’s most gmusing!”- 


THE AMEHICAH FAUST. 


81 


‘ ‘ Pleasant youth, Roger I ” 

“Yes. He’ll never be tried for the murder, though, 
for his late partner will never be identified. Many 
a crime is committed in this lovely city which the 
police never unravel. It’s a wicked world ! In the 
midst of life we are in death. Ah, why throw away 
chances? Isn’t it policy to believe in an abode of 
bliss and a hereafter? for if there be no future state 
the good man and the bad level up on demise ; but if 
there is, or be— put it in whatever mood you like- 
then the good man has been on the safe side. Yes- 
speaking from the point of advisability — if the atheist 
is right, the believer does not suffer for differing from 
him ; but, if the boot is on the other foot the infidel’s 
chance is an outside one, to say the least. The bias 
is, therefore, on the side of the credulous idiot. ” 

“ Good boy, Sadler! ” remarked Franklin. “ Go on 
like that and I’ll get you a church in Brooklyn, and 
you can advertise your homilies a week ahead.” 

“Bah!” muttered Tann, “I’m an aU-fired, pump- 
kin-headed crank ! ” 

Here he was dilating on the advisability of virtue 
and faith and other mistakes, when it was his avowed 
business to propagate the opposite principles. Meta- 
phorically, he kicked himself in forty different 
places, and vowed never to give himself away again. 

“It’s too fine a day to stay indoors,” said Franklin. 
“Come for a ride. I’ve hired a couple of nags for 
the day. If you like them you can buy them.” 

Sadler had never been across a horse before in his 
life, which dated from far back; and, as usually 
happens in such cases, the animal it was his lot to 
ride was a vicious, evil-tempered brute. 

“ I’m thankful there’s not a large gathering to see 
me break this horse in,” said Sadler, as the beast 
wheeled round and round, in obstinate contravention 
of his wishes. 

“Yes, it is as well,” agreed Franklin; “but keep 
your hands3 well dawm and* he. won’t throw you.. 


82 


THE AMERICAN" FAUST. 


And ride more with your knees. You depend too 
much on the stirrups.” 

“Do I?” shouted Tann, clutching the reins with 
one hand and the mane with the other. “Oh! it 
looks quite easy the way you do it, and yet the 
conviction is forced upon me that I should be a deal 
safer walking.” 

“What’s there to he nervous about?” queried 
Elliott. “You can’t hurt yourself — that is to say, 
you can’t kill yourself.” 

“1 ought to be brave under such circumstances,” 
said Tann, as the horse stood upon his hind legs and 
beat the air with his fore-paws, “but somehow— I’m 
not.” 

Sadler A. had foolishly adorned his heels with 
spurs, which, as the animal resumed its natural 
attitude, deeply impressed themselves in the horse’s 
flanks. There was a mixed view of man and horse 
for some seconds — the horse predominating ; and 
then both were flying with the speed of the wind 
down the road, man on top, Elliott in hot pursuit. 
Sadler, with a desperate effort, locked his arms 
around the equine’s neck and shouted, “Stop him! 
stop him ! ” — in vain. The few pedestrians who were 
about seemed not anxious to accept the invitation. 
With head erect and ears laid back, the infuriated 
beast galloped along as if its life depended on beating 
a record, and Franklin tailed farther and farther 
behind. 

A turn in the road took Sadler from his sight ; but 
he kept on, and at the corner saw H. S. M. half a 
mile ahead. Elliott, being an old rider, could venture 
to spur his steed, which, under the pricking influence, 
lessened the distance between him and the leader, 
whose speed Avas partially nullifled by the tortuosity 
of the course pursued. Suddenly Tann’s mount 
altered its tactics. It stopped and shied at the 
shadow of a tree. An acrobatic display, in Avhich 
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THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


83 


head was up, then his fore-legs were down, while the 
hind hoofs beat time to an imaginary fandango ; next 
he left the ground, bunched himself in the air, and 
spread as he reached earth again. 

He stood on his head, and Sadler was upside 
down ; he up-ended and walked about like a biped ; 
and just as Tann was resolving to slide off, he altered 
his mind and bucked. 

That was how the crowning disaster happened. 

The ‘ ‘ fiery untamed ” was walking round on two 
legs, and Sadler, seeing his chance, dropped quietly 
off. Unfortunately, the second in which he loosed his 
hold was the one chosen by the horse in which to 
reverse his action, and this reverse action caught 
Sadler in the pit of the stomach. 

He came to grass some twenty feet from the 
colliding spot, and the horse, apparently satisfied 
with the proceedings, stopped short and began to 
graze with the utmost unconcern. 

Tann’s human nature was so broken up that he was 
too unconscious to summon the supernatural to his 
relief ; he lay, panting and gasping, with four ribs 
fractured and intense mortification setting in. 

Franklin, by this time on hand, dismounted and 
went to the rescue. A fiask of brandy proved useful 
as a restorative. After a decent interval, sufficient 
to allow the spirit which had gurgled its way 
down Tann’s throat to operate, the luckless man 
opened his eyes and groaned. 

“ That horse seemed to be possessed by the devil,” 
said Franklin, sympathetically and unthinkingly. 

“ Did he? ” gasped Tann. “Well he won’t be pos- 
sessed by this devil. I wouldn’t have him at a gift.” 

“Fortunately,” said Franklin, “you can doctor 
yourself, and I would suggest your setting your ribs 
right immediately, Pud we’ll turn back.” 

“ I’ll walk, if it’s ^orty miles,” said Tann. 

“ It won’t be necessary. There’s a carriage coming 
along. We’ll ask the occupants to give you a lift.” 


84 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


And Franklin, hailing the approaching vehicle, to 
his surprise was greeted by the cheery voice of his 
friend Harper, whom he had left in Nuremberg. 

“Hallo, Frank!” shouted Jack, stopping the 
coachman. “ Who’d have thought to meet you here! 
Let me introduce my sister, Belle. Belle— Mr. Elliott ! 
What! Tann too ? ” 

“Yes, Tann too!” growled Sadler. 

“Belle!” rattled on young Harper, “Mr. Tann! 
Tann, my sister ! Real nice girl. Belle. Aren’t you, 
sis ? ” 

“Don’t be silly. Jack,” answered Belle. “Your 
friend seems hurt, Mr. Elliott.” 

“ Yes,” agreed Franklin. “ He was trying to break 
a horse ; but the horse resenting it, they had words, 
and Mr. Tann has concluded to relinquish his pur- 
pose.” 

“Exactly! It’s a case of the breaker broken. 
Anyway, I’m all right now, and I’d like to drive back, 
if you can make room for me. Miss Harper.” 

“With pleasure!” Belle drew her skirts aside to 
make room for him. 

Sadler, with a sigh of content, fell into the vacant 
seat. Elliott turned away and laughed immoderately 
at the idea. If she only knew Mr. Tann as well as he 
did! 

“Will you ride this dangerous creature home?” 
asked Franklin of Jack, pointing to the untenanted 
horse. 

“ Certainly, if Mr. Tann doesn’t mind being left 
alone with Belle.” 

“ Not at all! ” said Tann, cheerily. “ I’m in heaven 
where I am.” 

Whereupon Elliott simply yelled with laughter, and 
Belle opened wide her eyes and wondered where 
Mr. Elliott had been reared. 

The change was soon completed, and they started 
back. Jack and Franklin riding close behind the 
carriage. 


tHE AMERICAl^ FAUST. 


85 


“ Where are you stopping ? ” asked Elliott. 

“ At the Anglais,” answered Harper. 

“Well,” said our new Faust, “I’ve a favor to ask 
of you ; but I shall have to tell you quite a long story 
first.” 

He entered into an account of the burning of 
the opera house and his meeting with Miss Woods; 
spoke of her lonely, deserted state, and asked Jack 
whether his sister Belle would move to the Trans- 
Atlantique and be a friend and companion for Violet. 

“For ‘Violet!’” echoed Harper; and, inspecting, 
Franklin closely, he saw enough to satisfy curiosity, 
and winked his eye. “Belle,” he answered, “when 
she knows the whole story, will be only too pleased to 
do as you wish, even if ‘ Violet ’ is not a nice girl ; but, 
of course, if she’s half as nice as you imply, there’s no 
question about Belle’s being satisfied. She’s got no 
girl friends here; the boss isn’t here, either. Called 
back to New York on important business; mother 
went with him. But not wanting to curtail Belle’s 
trip they telegraphed for me to look after her, and 
I am on the spot, as you see.” 

This information made Franklin’s mind easy. His 
sole anxiety now was to get back and apprise Miss 
Woods of the arrangement he was planning for her 
comfort. 

In the earnestness of their conversation Jack and 
Franklin had dropped behind; but, the difficulty 
adjusted, they touched their horses up and drew 
nearer the occupants of the carriage. Belle was 
laughing heartily at some remark of Tann’s, and that 
diabolical humorist was lying back on the cushions^ 
evidently contented to the last degree with himself. 
Sadler fancied himself greatly as a story-teller, and 
the expressive wag of his head showed that he had 
made a hit in his favorite line. 

“You come from Vermont, don’t you? ” asked Miss 
Harper, when her laughter had subsided. “You’ve 
the strongest accent imaginable 1 ” 


86 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“ Have I? That’s odd, ’cause I don’t come from 
there,” said Sadler. “You couldn’t guess in a hun- 
dred where I do come from.” 

“I’ll bet you a pair of gloves that I do.” 

“ Done! ” 

“A hundred guesses, mind you.” 

“ Agreed! ” 

“ First guess ! Tannville? ” queried Miss. Harper. 

“ Hit it the first time,” said Tann, with a burlesque 
sigh. “ That’s a dozen pairs of gloves I owe you.” 

“Six and a quarter is my size,” said Belle. “It’s 
very funny too,” she went on. “ I didn’t know there 
was such a place as Tannville, and that wasn’t really 
meant to be one of the guesses.” 

It was pretty clear they were having a good time in 
the carriage. Franklin smiled and debated whether 
it would be considered, polite to request a man to go 
to Tannville, and whether the man would understand 
if you did. 

“Belle!’* said young Harper, riding up, “drive 
with Mr. Tann to the Trans-Atlantique and take 
rooms there. Elliott and I will take these horses back.” 

“ Are you going to move there ? ” enquired Belle, in 
some surprise. 

“ Um! ” answered Jack. “ It will be best for all us 
young people to be together where Mr. Tann can 
look after us.” 

“Well! I like that,” cried Sadler. “Look after 
you. Yours truly will be too deeply engaged looking 
after Miss Harper to hustle much for her brother.” 

“Very good, old ’un! ” laughed Jack. 

“What d’ye mean by that?” exclaimed Tann, in 
the first stage of anger. “ I will not be called ‘ old 
’un’ by you or anybody else on earth.'''' 

“Tann!” warned Franklin, “don’t forget I’m 
here.” 

“I apologize! It is Miss Harper I am to be cen- 
sured for forgetting,” replied Sadler, with a bow to 
Belle. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


• 87 

“Jack was in the wrong,” decided Miss Harper, 
eying her brother with great severity. 

He calmly accepted the inevitable fate of frater- 
nity, and slowing his steed, permitted the carriage to 
roll out of earshot to allow of his enquiring why the 
term ‘ old ’un’ should have such an effect on Sadler 
A. Tann. 

Franklin in answer shrugged his shoulders and pro- 
fessed ignorance, unless it was that S. A. was touchy 
on the subject of his age; for, Elliott said, he was 
a few centuries older than his exterior indicated. 
Their ways, the carriages and theirs, eventually lay 
in different directions, so they separated. Jack and 
Franklin bent on getting rid of their horses. This 
achieved, they repaired on foot to the Hotel Anglais, 
where Harper made arrangements for the baggage to 
be sent over to the Trans- Atlantique. Tann had dis- 
posed of the Harpers with excellent care, having 
secured for their accommodation the best rooms in the 
house. As soon as Franklin conveniently could, he 
left Jack Harper and called on Miss Woods, whom he 
gratified with the pleasing intelligence of Miss Har- 
per’s presence in the hotel. 

“She,” explained Franklin, “is very different 
from you^ being what is erroneously supposed 
to be the type of American girl. She talks 
freely, laughs heartily, can hold her own with 
any of the men in bantering, sarcasm, and inde- 
pendence, and lets them know it; loves to have a 
crowdj of dudes dangling round her on the steamer, 
paying her compliments, and snubs one and all 
impartially; is a first-class flirt on the surface, but 
aufond — excuse my French — is as true as steel and 
as good as gold.” 

“ Your description makes me very anxious to know 
her,” said Violet, visibly brightening for a brief 
instant; “and, Mr. Elliott— I — am very thankful to 
you for all you have done for me. You are very 
kind.” 


88 


THE AMERICAIT FAtTST. 


“ Not half SO kind as I should like to be — I mean, 
there was nothing to do. I should have preferred 
something really diflacult.” 

“ It is good of you to say so,” she said, with a faint, 
scarce perceptible blush. 

“Not at aU!” Franklin responded. “Words are 
cheap. Anybody can talk ; almost anybody will talk ; 
but few perform.” 

“ And you are one of the few? ” remarked Miss 
Woods, turning her eyes full upon him for too fleet- 
ing a second. 

“I assure you. Miss Woods,” said Franklin, while 
under the thrilling steadiness of her glance his heart 
doubled its tempo, “I assure you I wasn’t Ashing 
for that. Er— ” The words came so fast upon him 
that they tumbled over one another in his throat, and 
he stammered out, “Shall I ask Miss Harper to come 
up to you?” ' 

What is the matter with the man? 

“ If it is not troubling you ? ” answered Violet. 

“Nothing I can do for you can be trouble,” said 
Franklin ; and with a bow he left her. 

“I wonder if she cares for me,” he thought, on his 
way down to the Harpers’ suite. 

When a man asks himself questions like that, he 
cannot be in his right state of mind or body. He 
must be feverish, and suitable for medical experi- 
ment. “I wonder if she cares for me.” 

By this time he was outside Miss Harper’s door, but 
falling again into his reverie, he stood in a pictur- 
esque pose of contemplation with a mat for his ped- 
estal as Jack chanced to come along. 

“Belle in? ” he shouted. 

Franklin came to with a start, and remembered 
that he had forgotten to knock. 

“Come in. Jack,” said Belle, hearing her brother’s 
voice, and opening the door. “You here, Mr. Elliott? ” 

“Yes,” Franklin replied. “I’d like to introduce 
you to Miss Woods, if you don’t mind.” 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


89 


It wasn’t in Miss Harper to mind, even ’if she had 
been busy; so, with a nod to Jack, she followed 
Franklin out of the room and up the stairs. 

“ How d’ye do, dear ? ” was Miss Harper’s greeting 
to Miss Woods, as if she had been an old acquaint- 
ance. “Franklin has told me all about you. Excuse 
me calling you Franklin, won’t you, Mr. Elliott. I 
guess I’ve caught it from Jack. Jack’s my brother. 
Miss Woods. Violet’s your name, isn’t it? Yes! 
Well, I’ll call you Vi, and you can call me Belle. 
Wei^shall soon be fast friends, I’m sure; that is to 
say, I shall be the fast friend and you’ll be the little 
Puritan. Don’t be shocked. I’m harmless ; everybody 
says so. I’m all bluff. Hem! — an expression of 
Jack’s.” 

Miss Woods was compelled to smile in spite of her- 
self; she held her hand out to Miss Harper. The 
hand, soft and pretty as it was, did not prove ade- 
quate for that young lady’s wants ; for she took Vio- 
let in her arms and kissed her. 

“You’re a dear little— you are little compared to 
me— you’re a dear little, wide-eyed creature, and I 
mean to love you like a sister,” said Belle, kissing 
Violet again. 

With a laugh Miss Harper turned and addressed 
herself to Franklin. “ She’s not used to demonstra- 
tive greetings like mine ; but she’U learn to love me 
in time. Most fellows do.” 

“ It didn’t take Mr. Tann long to offer himself up 
at your shrine, did it? ” asked Franklin, slyly. 

“ Oh !” answered Belle unabashed, “ that’s nothing. 
I’m too used to flirtations to think anything of one 
more or less. I’m waiting for a sincere case of gone- 
ness, then maybe I’ll become a staid, prim old lady. 
Violet, I’ll tell you all about myself, if this long- 
faced gentleman will kindly quit.” 

And Franklin, obeying orders, retired, with a Arm 
conviction that though Miss H. was a jolly sort of 
girl, the other, with her modest brown eyes, her 


90 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


unobtrusive keenness, and brave bearing under sud- 
den adversity, was his ideal; and, musing thus, he 
wandered into the billiard-room where Sadler A. Tann 
was playing ; and the gentle Sadler was getting con- 
siderably the worst of it. 

His temper accordingly was none too angehc, but 
his spleen vanished as Franklin appeared. 

“How are the two girls getting on together?” 
queried Jack. 

“Splendidly! ” was Elliott’s reply. “They’ll make 
a perfect combination, for they don’t clash in any 
way. Miss Harper is fair, Miss Woods is dark; one’s 
all sparkle and the other’s a quiet glow ; and that’s a 
good way of putting it.” 

“I’m anxious to know your paragon, Franklin,” 
quizzed Harper. 

‘‘ It would be bettei for you not to,” said Franklin. 
“It’s an Atlantic liner to a coasting smack that 
you’ll lose your heart if you do.” 

“ As /le has,” put in Sadler, with an accompanying 
grunt of satisfaction. 

“Ho! ho!” laughed Jack, finishing a break of 
twenty. “ That’s how the land lies ! ” 

“ I can’t quite deny it, and I can’t quite agree with 
it,” said Franklin, with a half-sigh. 

“ No ? Well, I can,” said Jack. “You give your- 
self away so beautifully. Heigho ! ” 

“ I can’t make a shot if you fellows go on cackling 
like that,” broke in Sadler, as he failed to score off 
an easy leave. “ It’s no use playing. If I can’t have 
everything quiet, I may as well give up.” 

“ If quietness makes your play better, you’d be a 
billiard-terror in the Sahara, wouldn’t you, eh? ” 

“Stop now, anyway !” said. Frankhn. “It’s half- 
past six, and we’d best dress for dinner. If it wasn’t 
for deserting Miss Woods, and for the sympathy 
which any gentleman must feel, we’d go to a theatre ; 
as it is, we’ll try to be happy at home for once.” 

“Yes,” assented Jack; “and if Tann’s willing. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


91 


we three will have a quiet hand of poker in my 
room.” 

“ If it’s anything to do with gambling, you can’t 
count me in,” snapped Tann. “ GambUng means 
drink ; nearly all gamblers drink ; many of them are 
drunkards—” 

“ All through trying to get full hands,” interposed 
Jack. 

“I will not encourage viciousness of that kind in 
anyone I feel an interest in.” 

“ Pooh! This won’t be gambling. We’ll make it a 
franc limit, if you’re frightened. I suppose Belle 
will be engaged with Miss Woods most of the even- 
ing, or we’d ask her to join us.” 

“What!” half screamed Tann. “I’m ashamed of 
you, Mr. Harper, leading your sister into the occa- 
sions of sin.” 

“Sin! what’s a sin! Who made you an authority 
on sin ? ” asked Harper, rudely, and Franklin was 
constrained to laughter. 

“Well!” shouted Tann, fiercely, “if I don’t know 
what sin is, it’s a pity ! ” 

At this point he felt Franklin kicking him, so he 
remembered himself. 

Again that painful habit of saying what it was his 
interest not to ! Of course he knew what sin was, and 
naturally realized the consequences more than any 
^mortal could, but he should be pleased to see the num- 
ber of sinners swelling— even if he did think the terms 
“ sinner ” and “ fool ” synonymous. 

“Very well ! I’ll play,” he said, attempting to 
undo the pious injury he had been doing himself. “ I 
was only afraid it would be a children’s game with a 
sou in the pool— or whatever you call it— and nothing 
riles me more than that.” 


CHAPTER VIl. 


IN WHICH TANN VISITS AN ART GALLERY. 

The weeks passed by, and the young people, out of 
respect for Violet, refrained from mixing in the 
world of gayety ; theatres were carefully tabooed ; the 
dances and garden-parties of the early summer 
avoided ; but Miss Woods, feeling that she was curtail- 
ing the pleasure of the others, at last insisted that her 
grief should no longer cast a gloom over the whole 
party. 

Nothing is more injurious than brooding over mis- 
fortunes; and yet Mrs. Grundy lays extravagant 
stress on the propriety of isolation and the nursing 
of silent grief ; but then Mrs. Grundy is a first-class 
fanatic. i 

The salon was nearing the end of its successful ex- 
hibition, and Belle, at least, was desirous of seeing 
the celebrated works of the year. Violet, wishing to 
conform to the boundary lines established for family 
bereavements, did not care to go. Franklin, of 
course, politely avowed his determination of staying 
behind to look after Miss Woods, and the whole plan 
was likely to fall through, when Violet consented to 
accompany them. 

Picture-viewing is certainly the mildest form of 
dissipation; it is hardly boisterously out of tune with 
gravity of disposition, and if there was any harm in 
Miss Woods yielding to the temptation, we forgive 
her. 

How beautiful she looked in black ! The homeliest 
girls appear nice in black, when it is well made up. 
A sallow complexion by contrast takes the tint of 


THE AMEEICAH FAUST. 


93 


delicate paleness, and a naturally pale face derives 
therefrom a heavy transparency which, in company 
with wide-opened deep-brown eyes brimming with love 
beneath the fringe of long, dark lashes, is simply irre- 
sistible. What wouldn’t we give to have such a face 
on our left arm!— the owner of such a face, that 
is. But we grow delirious with envy of Frank- 
lin. 

Tann, at the outset, assigned himself to the escort 
of Belle. Belle had impressed him. His opinion of 
her keen judgment was of the highest. He told 
Franklin that if Belle Harper had been Eve, he didn’t 
think that a whole tribe of snakes could have induced 
her to take the apple. 

Our first female parent was not an American girl, 
or she would have regarded that apple deal with 
strictly business eyes, and have entered it in a ledger, 
or calculated the probable profit and loss on the trans- 
action, before closing her ivories in it. 

“ D’ye know,” said Tann to Belle, for whom he was 
clearing a way through the lobbies, “ I’ve never been 
to a picture exhibition before, though I’ve been painted 
in so many ways myself? ” 

•“ You a model ? ” asked Belle, in some surprise. 

“ Hardly a model,” replied Tann, “but artists take 
fancy pictures of me. I’m represented allegorically 
as a serpent; sometimes they give me hoofs and a 
tail, but I answer you on my word of honor I’m not 
what I’m painted.” 

“ Like a certain party we won’t mention,” laughed 
Miss Belle. 

‘‘ Indeed ! who may that be ? ” interrogated Tann. 

“ Don’t you know the old saying, ‘ The devil is not 
so black as he is painted? ’ ” 

“ Is there a saying to that effect ? ” 

“Yes. It’s a horrid chestnut, too.” 

“Oh! ” said Tann, “ I’m very much obliged to whom- 
soever originated it.” 

Belle laughed merrilj at this. Who could have 


,94 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


helped it ? Sadler said such innocent, droll things, so 
much as if he meant them. 

‘‘You may laugh,” Sadler went on, warming up 
to his subject, “but I hate to allow such misrepresen- 
tation to continue.” 

“ Why should you trouble yourself about His Infer- 
nal Majesty ? ” queried Miss Harper, through her 
laughter. 

‘ ‘ Why ? ” answered Sadler, recollecting himself, 
and continuing the discussion in the same tone, 
though from a more outside position. “ Why ? It is 
quite possible that the gentleman you refer to may 
have business dealings with myself. I presume he is 
tempter-in-general by contract. Why he should be 
held up to universal obloquy for merely doing what his 
nature, his impulsive, guileless nature, prompts him 
to, I cannot grasp. How would you like to see a 
friend of yours represented with hoofs, and a tail 
forked like a serpent’s tongue ? It’s all very well in 
political cartoons, but this is done seriously. He, I 
may inform you, is beautiful ; his features are forbid- 
ding, awe-inspiring, but symmetrical ; that is why I 
consider an injustice is being done. Down with in- 
justice 1 ” 

“ I’m with you, there,” said Belle, “ down with it !— 
but we’re blocking the way. Let us look at the pic- 
tures. That’s pretty! Number 34; ‘Le Vieux Mat- 
elot: Clever study.” 

‘ ‘ I’m no judge, ” remarked Sadler. ‘ ‘ His face looks 
to me like a cross between an over-ripe tomato and a 
slice of corned-beef.” 

“Exposure to the weather is the cause,” explained 
Belle, amused at his metaphor. “ '‘La premiere f ante ' 
That’s quaint ; isn’t it? ” 

“ Don’t get on to it at all,” growled Sadler. 

“Don’t you see;” remonstrated Belle, vexed at 
Tann’s dullness. “The little boy has been stealing 
preserves and his mamma is chastising, or rather has 
been chastising him. That’s why he’s crying.” 


THE AMERICAN PAUST. 


95 


“What rot!” said Tann. “How can they expect 
the child to grow up wicked if they heat him for a 
trifle. If a child has leanings to larceny, he should 
be encouraged. Who knows ? he might be in a big 
position of trust some day.” 

“Yes,” agreed Belle, supporting Sadler’s supposed 
jest, “a cashier ora boodling alderman. Oh! that’s 
real sweet. ‘ Un vrai amV See ! the master has fallen 
off the horse in the hunt and the poor animal is 
standing by in sorrow.” 

“Very, very elegant in theory!” sneered Tann, 
“ but in practice it’s about as different as a pie from a 
paving-stone. The beast has thrown him off and is 
quietly taking a free grass lunch to show his indiffer- 
ence. I know, I’ve been there, ‘t/n vrai ami!'* 
Pah ! it’s a misnomer ! ” 

“You’re naturally sore on that score!” Belle 
rejoined. “What’s this ? ‘ Le Naufrage,"* ” 

“That’s better,” said Sadler. “It’s severe. The 
lightning is very good, and the expression of discon- 
tent on the part of some of the people is excellent.” 

“Look ! What beautiful eyes the woman in the 
corner has ! ” enthused Miss Harper. 

“Which corner?” asked Tann, turning round to 
survey the room behind them. 

“In the picture!” Belle stamped her foot impa- 
tiently, thinking Tann was jesting. ‘ ‘ She’s praying. ” 

“I see ! I see !” said Tann; “most absurd habit. 
I never waste my time in that way ! Foolery ! She 
might as well take a comfortable view of things. Oh ! 
I can see you are not with me in this.” 

“ No, I am not, ” retorted Belle, sharply. “ I guess 
you think it’s yery manly and modern to neglect a 
small act of recognition to your mortality, but it’s not 
at all clever. Any fool can deny everything; the 
negative side of an argument is always the easier. It 
is the simplest thing in the world to be unconvinced ; 
it is no easy matter to convince.” 

There was an icy barrier between them for nearly 


96 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


five minutes. Belle was anxious to thaw, but wouldn’t, 
till Sadler, in his most insinuating voice, said, “ Miss 
Harper, I’ve been thinking over your last remark and 
I’m going to begin to-night.” He didn’t say what he 
was going to begin. Miss Harper smiled her sweet- 
est— and that was just too sweet for anything— and 
said, “Yes, think of when you were a child at your 
mother’s knee.” 

“ I never had a mother’s knee,” said Sadler. “ My 
mother never had a knee.” 

“ What ! She must have been a freak.” 

“I never knew what it was to have a mother.” 

“ Mr. Tann! What a cheerless, unhappy childhood 
yours must have been ! ” 

“I never remember being a child,” commented 
Sadler. “ My first recollections are full-grown ones.” 

“You are a kind of mystery, Mr. Sadler. — There’s . 
a cute picture ! ” and referring again to her catalogue, 
she read, “ ‘ Duquel pense-t-elle V What is she think 
ing of? ” 

“It is a conundrum. I give it up. Perhaps she’s 
thinking her feet are smaller than other girls’. She is 
apparently eying her shoes.” 

“Stupid ! ” said Miss Belle. The notion of the pic- 
ture is, that she is thinking of the young man who is 
looking through the branches.” 

“The dude behind?” queried Sadler. 

“Yes. See how anxious and tender his gaze is! 
She is rather like Miss Woods, isn’t she? ” 

“ Just slightly,” agreed Tann. 

“ By the way, where is Violet? ” asked Belle. 

“ On ahead somewhere with Franklin,” replied 
Tann. 

“Of course, I knew that. He is very attentive to 
her.” 

“Is he?” 

“ Yes. It’s my opinion,” stated Belle, “ that there’s 
a wedding looming up from that quarter.” 

“ He ! wed her! ” 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


97 


“Yes; why not? Isn’t she a beautiful, sensible, 
pure girl, and isn’t he a nice, manly young fellow, 
and as honorable as men are nowadays? They are 
splendidly adapted to each other.” 

“ Are they? ” snapped Tann. “ Well, I can’t see it. 
I guess I’ll have to give Franklin a sound talking to. 
If he gets married — I get left.” 

Belle laughed with scorn. “He’ll take a lot of 
notice of what any one says to him on that subject ! ” 

Sadler A. Tann replied naught to this ; he had food 
for thought, and he was busy digesting it. He knew 
this girl, Violet, to his sorrow. She had been next to 
perfect ; she had never given her parents any cause 
for anger or dissatisfaction ; and he gnashed his teeth 
as he reflected. Her virtue needed only to be a trifle 
more obtrusive, or practised in a different sphere, for 
her to pass muster among the saints. A fine chance 
he would have of leading Franklin Elliott into the 
tortuosities of vice, if that self-willed young man had 
such an incentive the other way as this girl would be ! 
It must be prevented at all hazards. The love senti- 
ment must be nipped in the bud. That’s all there 
was to it, from Tann’s point of view. He gnawed the 
ends of his fingers more viciously than ever ; it was 
his only sign of discontent, with the exception of 
silence. 

Violet, Frankhn and Jack Harper had gone on in 
advance of the other two, and Jack, considerate, 
knowing youth, had discovered a friend in the crowd. 
Convenient friend ! Frankhn liked Jack Harper very 
much, but there were times when his strongest 
enchantment was distance. This was one of the 
times. Mr. Elliott felt relieved when Jack’s broad 
shoulders were lost in the surging crowd. He 
could look at Violet now without the consciousness 
that some one at his elbow yras appreciating his 
expressiveness as a good joke. 

“ The crowd is very great, is it not. Miss Woods? ” 
asked Franklin, glancing dpTO at her pale, delicate- 


98 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


looking countenance. “Perhaps you will find my 
arm of service? ” 

He offered her the use of it, with an entreating 
smile which a heart of stone could not have resisted 
with self-complacency. Violet accepted his support 
very timidly. She scarcely touched the arm with her 
gloved hand, but the condescension gave him courage, 
and he drew her closer to his side. This was the first 
occasion on which he had been so favorably situated ; 
even now, it was the presence of the crowd which 
gave him the excuse and the courage to put 
himself forward. The pressure of her hand on his 
arm thrilled him as he had never imagined it possible 
that he could be stirred ; the strange sensa- 
tion at his heart seemed to rise, perforce, into his 
throat, and it required a strong effort to converse 
naturally. If he only dared give himself over 
to his passion! But it was better to suffer such 
repression for a little while longer than risk his 
future happiness by a premature avowal. Violet 
found his arm extremely useful ; the crush was not 
nearly so tiresome as it had been. She began to think 
more of Franklin than she had done; and once, 
Franklin’s gaze being apparently engrossed with a 
landscape, she concluded to venture a study of his 
features. She turned her clear, dark-brown eyes full 
upon him for an instant, and, as if responsive to their 
magnetism, he moved his head to look at her. She 
lowered her lids, and blushed so charmingly and 
guiltily that Franklin longed to take her in his arms 
before all the people ; but he thought, very correctly, 
that she might object. After this they stood before 
painting after painting, and neither saw one of them ; 
not that either knew of the other’s temporary blind- 
ness. Each inaagined that the spell of quiet and re- 
fiectiveness was confined to iif rnself and herself. What 
a deal of the game the lookers on must have seen I 
Contented gravity is as great a betrayer of secrets as 
the sullen stolidity consequent up on what is technicab 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


99 


ly known as a “ tiff.” From room to room they wan- 
dered ; the hour for luncheon arrived, and the fashion- 
able visitors left, one by one, until but few persons 
remained; but they failed to notice the falling 
off. They sat them down to rest, and here Miss 
Harper and Sadler A. Tann eventually discovered 
them. 

“WeVe had a nice hunt after you two children, 
said Belle, amused at the innocence assumed 
for her benefit. “ Do you know it’s nearly three 
o’clock? ” 

“Is it?” asked Franklin, surprised, and taking out 
his watch. “ So it is ! ” 

“Dear me!” exclaimed Violet, ‘ I had no idea it 
was so late.” 

“ Yes ! Heigho 1 How time does move when we 
are oblivious to its flight ! ” said Belle. 

“Or when one is in such charming company as 
yours,” added Sadler, with a grandiose bow. 

“Yes, but they,” pointing to Franklin and Violet, 
“haven’t been in my charming company, and yet — ” 
Belle laughed. 

“Where’s Jack ?” queried Tann, curtly. 

‘ ‘ He met some friends about an hour ago and we~ 
I haven’t seen him since,” answered Franklin. 

Three hours ago would have been nearer the 
mark. 

“Let’s go home,” proposed Belle. “ For, in the first 
place, I would like lunch ; I’m hungry as a polar bear ; 
and secondly I should like to take my diurnal ante- 
prandial slumber. I guess I haven’t inhaled the air 
and the beans of the Hub for nothing. Violet and 
myself will walk together for a change, and you two 
boys may walk on ahead.” 

Sadler A. Tann, a boy ! What next ? 

Belle smiled to herself at the slight expression of 
dissatisfaction which passed over Franklin’s features, 
because of this new arrangement. Fleeting as a fleecy 
cloud across the sun, too insignificant to leave its 


100 


THE AMERICAN" FAUST. 


impress on the day; but for all that it was readily 
perceived by the watcher. 

Belle laughed. “It does the brutes good to suffer 
occasionally.” 


CHAPTER Vm. 


S. A. TANN HAS A DIFFICULTY WITH THE POLICE. 

* 

Amongst other habits common to our frail human- 
ity, Sadler Adams had taken to smoking. In tobacco 
he found a balm for his injured feelings, a solace for 
his weighty woes ; he and the “ noxious weed ” were 
more inseparable companions than Damon and Pyth- 
ias, or David and Jonathan were in the by-gone. His 
mouth was rarely seen without a cigar protruding 
from its recesses ; in fact S. A. experienced as much 
pleasure in chewing the end, as in drawing the smoke. 
He never dreamed of commencing any undertaking 
without consulting a cigar ; and it was while under the 
influence of a mild home-grown Havana that he was 
made the victim of one of his usual misadventures, 
which were, it would almost seem, the work of some 
practical joker of his own tribe. Late one evening, — 
one morning, we might say, for it was nearly 1 a. M. — 
Sadler sauntered slowly along the Rue de la , philos- 
ophizing on his own cleverness in being able to lead 
men into the absurdities of crime. 

This train of thought was suggested to him by the 
presence of a man reeling under a heavy load of 
liquor, bawling a profane song, and occasionally 
breaking off to ask an imaginary second to stop push- 
ing him. 

“ There,” reflected Sadler, “ that’s our doing.” 

As is usual with people laboring under this mis- 
taken idea of pleasure, the inebriate’s progress was 
serpentine, so that in advancing one hundred yards his 
pedometer would have registered a quarter of a mile. 
His lurches were of the malicious type ; the few foot- 


102 


THE AMERlCAIf FAUST. 


passengers who appeared to be abroad at this late hour 
having to dodge nimbly as he bore down upon them 
with the evident desire to butt them into the gutter. 

Sadler saw his performances at a distance ; but he 
gradually approached the intoxicated gentleman, and 
finally found it necessary either to pace with uncom- 
fortable slowness behind him, or to chance a collision 
in walking past. He chose the latter alternative. Mr. 
Drunkard was watching him, it seemed, out of the 
extreme corner of his left eye and was preparing for a 
rush. Sadler grew nervous. It was not in his nature 
to go back, and it was too absurd to fear a helpless 
brute like this ! He would risk it. He advanced 
with considerable valor, and the gentleman or citizen, 
whichever he preferred to be called, tottered and oscil- 
lated, ready to swoop down on the intruder. Tann 
halted and his enemy did likewise, with his upper half 
at an angle of more than 45 degrees. Tann proceeded, 
and the awful, intoxicated example drew nearer, still 
more out of the perpendicular. Sadler watched the hes- 
itancy of his adversary’s attack and nimbly jumped 
past, as the man tried to drop up against him. The 
onslaught and the escape were so simultaneous that the 
attacking party, not being able to recover, smashed 
violently into a lamp-post, wheeled sharply round it, 
and collected in a heap in the gutter. Tann stopped 
and examined the ruins. It was a well-dressed man, 
in evening attire. Probably he had left his club in a 
fairly muddled state, and walking home with the in- 
tention of benefiting by the night air, had been ac 
costed and led into some saloon by a siren of the 
streets, some creature whose artificiality would have 
caused him to shudder in his sober senses. 

Sadler should have known better than stop to criti 
cise the costume and social status of inebriates at 
that time of night— but he didn’t. He even went to 
the extent of stooping down and attempting to loosen 
the man’s collar, to give him more breathing room. 
Poor, innocent Tann ! The inebriate, taking Sadler’s 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


103 


kindness for aggressiveness, seized him by the coat 
and yelled at the top of his voice for a policeman. It 
was in vain Tann implored him not to be a fool, and 
to let go. A score of night prowlers ran towards 
them from various directions ; Sadler struggled hard 
to get away, but his efforts were useless; the man 
held on and Sadler remained where he was. The 
usual crowd of chance wayfarers soon collected, and a 
hot altercation between the drunken man and his vic- 
tim afforded them much amusement. 

The cause of the trouble soon became evident ; the 
inebriate had lost his watch. Sadler was accused of the 
theft. The more anxiety he displayed to get away, 
the stronger was the general conviction of his guilt. 
To make the situation more difficult, the man’s 
excitement and fright had almost sobered him, so 
that it was next to useless for Sadler to protest his 
anxiety to relieve or assist a fellow-man in liquor. 
Mr. Tann objected to being searched, and when the 
crowd good-naturedly attempted to help the robbed 
man to regain his property, Sadler became violent 
and abusive. In this melee, one watch and chain did 
go— Sadler’s own. 

When the dispute had lasted some five minutes, a 
police officer appeared upon the scene and shouldered 
his way into the crowd. The situation explained, he 
laid his legal forepaw on Sac’^.er’s collar and requested 
him, in forcible police-French, to “come along without 
any fuss.” Sadler was too excited to follow his good 
advice ; he kicked and struggled, till he burst his six- 
teen-and-a-half collar and tore the buttons off his vest 
— all to no purpose. Mr. Sergeant de Ville whistled, 
and two other officers came to his assistance ; and by 
sheer strength they dragged Tann along to the sta- 
tion, followed by a sleepless mob of a hundred or so, 
the plaintiff among them. When Sadler stood 
revealed in the light of the office, he appeared capable 
of any enormity, while his accuser was, to all intents 
and purposes, a respectable gentleman. The inspector 


104 


THE AMEKICAH FAUST. 


asked a few leading questions, which Sadler obsti- 
nately refused to answer ; and, the gentleman swear- 
ing to the robbery, and being supported by two or 
three others in the crowd, who professed to have 
witnessed the committal of the offence, ordered Mr. 
Tann away to solitary confinement for the night. 
The accuser left his card, “M. Syphon de Vichy,’’ 
and appointed to appear in the magistrate’s court, at 
ten on the morrow. 

The office was cleared of all but Sadler and two of 
the officers. The absence of any kind of jewelry on 
Sadler’s person simply served to confirm suspicion ; 
for — they, of course, knew the little game — he had 
passed the swag on to a confederate. The search 
revealed to Tann that his own watch and chain were 
gone, and his indignation knew no bounds. But the 
hotter he grew, the more the officers laughed and 
praised his acting, which to them was “ superbe ” and 
worthy of the finest melodrama. Sadler vowed he 
would appeal to the American consul, and the result 
would be war between the United States and France ; 
whereat the pohce laughed the louder. When they 
liad extracted efficient amusement from the pris- 
oner, they threw him into a comfortable cell, spe- 
cially designed for such cases as his, and retired, 
leaving him worn out from his protestations of 
innocence. 

He sat on the edge of the bed, and began to think 
what a vile, ungrateful world it was. Here he had 
been behaving in a most exemplary manner, in spite 
of his opinions, and that did not save him from insult 
and contumely. He was not such a fool as to tempt 
people to sin to his, the tempter’s, annoyance. No! 
and he had sent a sharp message of remonstrance to 
headquarters, forbidding the under-strappers to act 
in any way likely to inconvenience him, in his ter- 
restrial sojourn. They would not dare disobey him ; 
therefore this concatenation of sin, drunkenness, 
stealing, and mendacity, with violence, and may be a 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


105 


few other details had been welded together without in- 
terference on his part, or on the part of any of his 
agents. Whence, then, could it proceed? Either 
there was a rival establishment, unknown to him, or 
there was no necessity for his. This problem agi- 
tated his mind for a considerable period. He decided 
to devise some way of extending his business ; they 
were getting too idle below; and this truth also in- 
truded itself on him : — if men, unaided, could behave 
as he had, to his sorrow, known them to, what might 
they not do if the infernal agencies could only 
invent fresh enormities to suggest to them! He 
would establish a commission to consider the matter. 

At this juncture Sadler was aroused from his 
reflections by an adjacent church clock striking 
three, and the conviction dawned upon him 
that he was a fool not to exercise his gift of insub- 
stantiality. How easy it was for him to pass through 
the walls if he wanted to ! And he did want to. 

Sadler was a late riser the next morning. His 
human framework was bruised and contused from 
head to foot; so he took it off and overhauled it 
thoroughly. When his inspection was flnished and 
the repairs carried out, he dressed himself for the day. 

The consternation in the police department sur- 
passed everything that had been experienced before 
in that hne. The doors were locked, the windows 
barred ; there were no signs of bootmarks on the walls, 
no indications of means of escape, or even attempt of 
escape — and yet the cell was empty! It simply 
passed all comprehension ; they had locked their 
prisoner in and he had never been seen to come out — 
but he was out ! The oflacial bewilderment at this 
improvement on the Indian basket-trick was so great 
that the usual secrecy was not observed. The occur- 
rence found its way into the afternoon papers as “a 
mysterious escape from prison.” 


106 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


Sadler was delighted at the panic he seemed to 
have caused, and at the startling hypotheses given 
birth to, by the notion of a cracksman who was 
endowed with the gift of immaterialism ; but Frank- 
lin, who rightly surmised it was Tann’s work, warned 
him to check a rising boastfulness which might at 
some future date inconvenience or hamper his rela- 
tions with liberty, and perhaps necessitate another 
miracle. 

“How are the ladies this morning?” asked Tann, 
the other topic being exhausted. 

“ Pretty well. They leave us next week,” answered 
Elliott. 

Tann could hardly suppress a smile of satisfaction. 

“ When did they make their minds up to that?” 

“This morning. Miss Woods has received letters 
from New York, which render it imperative for her 
to depart as soon as possible.” 

For the benefit of our readers we will explain the 
contents of the letters referred to. One was from 
Violet’s Aunt Eveleena, telling her that her loving 
relations looked forward with joy to her return ; that 
their house was to be her home, and that Leonard 
sent his dearest regards. Leonard was Violet’s first, 
and only cousin. As she remembered him now, 
he was a puppy about town, who set up for a model in 
style and elegance of attire. He was an irreclaimable 
Anglo-maniac, whose chief delight was in the derision 
of the “rabble,” which he interpreted as admiration. 
Miss Woods wondered why he should send his dear- 
est regards now, when a few months back he had 
neglected her as being “too slow, don’ch’ know?” 
The reason for his sudden access of affection was dis- 
cernible in the other letter. Violet Woods, it appeared 
therein, was heiress to close upon three-quarters of a 
million dollars, a sum which she was to enter into 
possession of in two years time, when she came of age. 

This intelligence was an unwelcome blow to Frank- 
lin’s ambitions. Here was a barrier between them. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 107 

— a barrier of half a million ! How was that to be 
removed? 

Tann naturally felt a thrill of joy pervade his being 
at the news. It was no easy matter for him to keep 
back an expression of gloating. 

“So she’s going, is she?” he said. 

“Yes, she is going,” said Franklin, sadly; and con- 
tinuing, as if in argument with himself, “ perhaps it’s 
for the best. I must learn to forget her. She is the 
heiress to great wealth, and I, although I could get a 
fortune from you, Tann, could not share such money 
with her. Unless I can make a pile by trade or 
speculation, I shall never ask her to marry me.” 

“Oh,” queried Tann, “were you thinking of mar- 
rying her?” 

“Why, what else should I think of?” 

“What else? ” said Tann. “ What else? Well, you 
beat me, you do indeed, Franklin! What’s the post 
you assigned yourself? What am I here for? What 
are we in partnership for? You don’t know your 
business ; you’re a new Faust, ain’t you? Assert your 
powers of fascination and make her a new Mar- 
guerite.” 

“That’s what’s in your mind, is it?” asked Frank- 
lin, as, seizing Sadler by the collar, he banged his 
head down on the marble-topped table, till the slab 
cracked in the middle. 

“What are you playing at?” gasped. Tann, as his 
skull struck the table the first time. 

“Wait till I’ve finished, and I’ll explain the game in 
full,” answered Franklin, dragging Tann across the 
room. He butted his friend’s skull against the man- 
telpiece, till Sadler, exerting his strength, broke 
loose from Elliott’s grasp and put the bed between 
them. 

Franklin stood on one side of the bed and addressed 
Sadler on the other, in his most unruffled tones. 
“I’ve treated you in this unceremonious manner 
with an emphatic absence of temper, haven’t I?” 


108 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“Temper, or no temper,” answered Tann, rubbing 
his cranium, “ the result is the same.” 

“Exactly,” agreed Franklin. “If you had been a 
man you would have fared worse.” 

“That is to say you would have gone farther,” 
commented Tann. 

“ You put it beautifully,” said Elliott. “ I believe 
there is a distinct mention in our contract, Mr. Tann, 
that you undertake always to comply with my 
wishes.” 

“ There is,” said Tann, sadly. 

“Well, one of my wishes is that you refrain from 
sullying Miss Woods’ name by uttering it.” 

“Very well,” consented Tann, “I’ll never talk 
about her again ; but I presume you’ll admit I am at 
liberty to lead you into temptation? ” 

“You are at liberty to try, certainly.” 

“ And I can tempt her, I suppose? ” queried Tann. 

“ If you don’t mind wasting your time.” 

“ ‘If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again,’ is 
my motto,” recited- Sadler, proudly. “ My successes, 
are 75 per cent, more numerous than my failures. ” 

“ Yes, but one failure worries you more than all the 
successes.” 

“That’s settled, then,” exclaimed Tann. “By the 
way, I guess you’ve read ‘ Paradise Lost? ’ ” 

“Yes,” said Elliott. 

“Do you remember how Milton describes my 
powers in combating the heavenly host?” 

“Yes,” answered Franklin, “you behaved very 
creditably on that occasion, if I remember rightly.” 

“I did, and that is why I wondered so at your 
temerity in banging my head about the way you 
did.” 

‘'Took you by surprise, for one thing,” said Elliott; 
“and another thing, you could not resist.” 

“Why not? why not?” asked Tann, with a snarl. 

“Because it would havabeen against my wishes.” 

“Damn your wishes! ” growled Sadler. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


109 


“ I expect you’ll say that very frequently before I 
get through with you.” 

“Franklin Elliott, you are a trickster— a quihbler ! ” 

“I’ve got the best of the contract, naturall}^ I’m 
an American. That’s what we call ‘cuteness.’ This 
will be an experience for you, Tann. But why 
grumble? You get the pull at the finish, that’s where 
I suffer.” 

“I hardly think you’re worth the trouble I take 
over you,” said Tann — adding in an undertone, “I 
couldn’t take him home in his present state; it 
wouldn’t do.” 

“ If you are not satisfied, say so, and well tear up 
the agreement at once,” proposed Franklin. 

“I have not expressed any dissatisfaction,” 
whined Tann; “and I’m the only party with any 
reason to kick. I’ve done everything you desired. I 
haven’t left a wish ungratified; my only distress is 
you don’t trouble me enough, and in return you 
behave like a brute to me. It’s ungrateful, Franklin, 
and it cuts me to the quick. Until you can treat me 
in a more gentlemanly manner, I shall avoid you.” 
Tann walked hurriedly from the room, slammed the 
door, and descended the stairs, muttering something 
to the effect that “the Woods girl would soon be gone : 
that would be a blessing ! ” 

This last week of happiness flew by at so rapid a 
rate, that it was with difficulty they realized the 
nearness of the hour of separation. To-morrow ! 
and in the exuberance of their young spirits the 
necessary work of to-day was neglected up to the 
very last moment. 

They didn’t start to pack their trunks till the night 
before departure, and it was no easy task, to stow 
away veritable mountains of finery without damaging 
their entirety. With a certain amount of help from 
the willing chambermaids, in whom the call for 
assistance aroused expectations of remuneration, the 
trunks were neatly filled, to the owners’ delight, 


110 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


Belle especially rejoiced in no less than ten new 
toilettes, each of which was more ravishing than the 
one which preceded it. 

The tiresome job was accomplished, and the two 
girls, drowsy, with their hair tousled and alto- 
gether in a disordered condition, were resting — 
Belle on top of a trunk, Violet in a comfortable rocker. 

They made a pretty picture, in spite of the litter of 
papers and boxes about the apartment. There are 
still a few girls left who can look presentable when 
they are not in their war-paint. 

As she swayed gently to and fro, Violet turned her 
thoughts unconsciously to Franklin Elliott, wonder- 
ing how long it would be before she would see him in 
New York. He had promised to call, the first thing 
on his return to his country ; but maybe he would for- 
get all about her and his promise too, and Violet 
sighed. 

“ Tired?” asked Belle, looking up from her task. 

“No, only thinking,” answered Violet. 

Belle smiled and hid her face. She had not quite 
given up all hope of an engagement between Violet 
and Franklin, though the time was getting short. 

“We shall have a good passage, I think,” said 
Belle. “August is a good time to cross. We shall be 
in New York at the beginning of September and then 
it won’t be long before the round of pleasure com- 
mences.” 

“1 shall not go out this winter,” said Violet, think- 
ing of her recent loss. 

“No? Never mind, dear. I’ll look after you and see 
you don’t mope. You must stay a month or so with 
me. Pa’ll be glad to see you. I rule the house ; every- 
body does exactly what I want. They’re pretty slow 
at home now without me. I don’t fancy I’ll come 
over next year. I like Americans better than these 
Frenchmen; their politeness is so frothy.’’ 

Belle rattled on at her usual breakneck speed, and 
Violet did not hear a word she said, 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


Ill 


By and by there came a knock at the door, and 
Franklin and Jack entered with a pile of novels. 

“ Nearly finished? ” asked Jack. 

“Yes,” answered Belle; “one of the maids can fix 
it now.” 

Franklin placed the books on the dressing-table 
and withdrew to one side, to the mantelpiece (reliable , 
stand by), and watched Violet, thinking he did so 
unknown to her. He had his back to the light and his 
face was in darkness, otherwise his eyes and whole 
expression would have revealed a grave tenderness, 
totally unusual in his easy, unruffled temperament. 
Violet felt his gaze although she did not turn to 
discover it, and her ears burned and her face fiushed 
uncomfortably ; but she did not dare look up. 

“You girls have to get up at eight to-morrow morn- 
ing, so we’ll leave you to retire early.” It was Jack 
who made this thoughtful remark. 

Franklin pulled himself together and forsook the 
support of the mantelpiece. 

“Good-night, sis,” said Jack, kissing his sister. 

“ Good night. Miss Woods,” shaking hands with her, 
and he went to the door and opened it. Elliott 
followed his example more slowly and less cheerily. 
“Good night, Miss Harper.” Good-night, Miss 
Woods.” She gave him her hand, and taking it he 
glanced at her face, and apparently saw sufficient 
encouragement to hold her fingers longer than was 
absolutely necessary. She felt the pressure and 
turned her head away slightly, as though to repress a 
tell-tale flush; and he repeated his good-night more 
gravely than before. The door closed on the two 
gentlemen and Belle effusively kissed Violet. Why? 

“Franklin, old man!” said Jack, with affectionate 
solicitude, in the passage outside, “take my word 
for it, it ’vv’ffl all come right.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


IN WHICH THREE OF THE DRAMATIS PERSONS SHAKE 
THE DUST OF EUROPE FROM THEIR SHOES; AND SAD- 
LER TREATS FRANKLIN TO AN AERIAL FLIGHT. 

Le Havre is probably familiar to most of our read- 
ers, from the illustrated advertisements, representing 
a huge steamer leaving an elegant quay, whose sur- 
face is tastefully decorated with sorrowing friends 
and young trees. After Paris, glorious in its aban- 
don, happy in the glow of summer, joyous in the 
cooling breezes of night, Le Havre does not greet one 
with that impressiveness promised by the guide- 
book. Not that it matters. The seaport is only a con- 
venience ; it is a step in the right direction— west. 

La Bourgogne^ the Compagnie-Generale-Trans-At- 
lantique’s fast liner, was due to leave the dock at two 
p. M. Our travellers had ample time to stroll through 
the town, and they elected to do so ; and although it 
would have been more correct for Jack to have 
piloted her, who, had she possessed a brother, would 
have been another fellow’s sister, rather than his own 
sister, Belle compelled him to remain at her side. 

Franklin Elliott’s recollections of Le Havre, as a 
town, are of the vaguest ; all he remembers is 
that he had a dainty figure close to his side, and that, 
somehow, he bordered twenty times on saying some- 
thing, which in the end remained unsaid. 

“I may write to you, mayn’t I?” begged Elliott, 
with an earnestness in his voice, but in the impassive 
manner necessary to the surroundings of a busy 
street. 

Why should I give you my address, if not ? ” 


THE AMEKICAH FAUST. 


113 


“That’s very true!” said Franklin, absurdly and 
illogically. The idea of saying “that’s true” to a 
question ! 

His next remark, however, was more sensible; 
for, taking her implied consent for a basis, he ob- 
served, “ I shall write often.” 

“Thank you,” from Violet. “I shall always be 
pleased to hear from you.” 

“You are so kind I don’t think I shall be able to 
stay away from New York very long.” 

“Why?” 

“Well,” responded Franklin, “ New York will have 
greater attractions for me now than it ever had 
before. You’ll be there right along, won’t you ?” 

“According to present arrangements, yes,” an- 
swered Violet, ignoring the connection between 
Franklin’s last two sentences. 

They walked on after this for about a hundred 
yards without speaking. Franklin felt time was fleet- 
ing and yet there was no sort of understanding be- 
tween them. 

“I’m sorry this walk can’t last much longer,” he 
said. “ We’re near our destination now.” 

“Yes,” agreed Violet, “ and to-morrow at this time 
I shall be four hundred miles away.” 

“Or more,’’ added Franklin. “I’m sorry now I 
didn’t decide to go with you.” 

“ So am I,” said Miss Woods, readily. 

“ You! You sorry I’m not going? ” 

“Yes; why not? Shipboard is very slow and 
almost anybody is a welcome relief.” 

“Oh!” 

“Yes; and if almost anybody is a welcome relief, 
how much more a friend like yourself, Mr. Elli- 
ott!” 

“ Oh! ” in a -different tone. “ I’m sure I shall find 
myself thinking of you whenever I look amongst my 
art treasures and see your picture, with its mournful 
eyes—” 


114 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“ Do you think I have mournful eyes? ” interrupted 
Violet, smiling. 

“Yes; I’d rather see you miserable than anybody 
else I know.” 

“ That’s not a very kind wish.” 

“ I meant to say, that when you are unhappy you 
look sweeter than other girls do when they are laugh- 
ing ; and I shall never forget how collected you were 
when in danger.” 

“And how can I ever show my gratitude to 
you?” 

“Gratitude is very unsatisfactory to me. It is a 
claim forced on one by events. I should like to have 
a claim on you — but not that of gratitude. I’m only 
a sort of an adventurer, after aU ; and if after a 
year of excitement and travel, I return in my 
present state of mind — I — I — shall not have al- 
tered.” 

“ In whatever state of mind you return, Mr. Elliott, 
I shall always be glad to meet you.” 

Her voice sank almost to a whisper ; there was 
a bewitching stress on the “I,” and her utterance 
of “glad” was the sweetest thing in articulation. 
Franklin thought so and was moved to more fervent 
utterances ; but they had arrived at the dock and in 
the bustle of preparation for departure, the golden 
opportunity was lost. 

Belle and Jack were already on board and beckon- 
ing them from the upper deck. An army of porters 
were struggling under heavy trunks and portman- 
teaus, and stacking the baggage in great heaps on the 
deck. Another set of men were busily engaged in 
reducing the heap by lowering the different articles 
into the hold. Franklin carefully pioneered Violet 
through the maze of boxes, coils of rope, and 
swearing foreigners, and they soon joined their 
friends above. 

“ The girls are very comfortably located on the far 
side of the saloon,” said Jack, “ Some people like to 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


115 


be more in the centre, but I think it’s better forward, 
where you don’t get the jar of the machinery. ” 

“We’ll have a great time,” observed Belle, joy- 
fully. “ The vessel is full. I’ve seen two or three 
people I know, already. There’s a Boston friend of 
mine who is just splendid; a regular blue-stocking. 
She’s a perfect circus. She’ll probably lecture on the 
‘ Unseen Life of the Ocean,’ — ” 

“ Meaning the people who don’t leave the state- 
rooms,” interposed Franklin. 

“ Wonderful the way those fellows dodge past each 
other on that narrow plank, isn’t it? ” remarked Jack 
Harper. 

“Yes,” said Franklin. “ It’s about as broad as a 
political party platform.” 

“ Any messages for New York? 

“ Nothing much, except I’ve about three thousand 
dollars I want manipulated on the street. I’ll 
arrange with you by cable to invest it for me in 
whatever your paternal bull may think best.” 

“ Good I ” said Jack, “ I’ll — ” 

“No, hold on!” interrupted Franklin. “I’vo a 
friend whose advice on stocks would be equal to a 
guarantee; but he must be carefully handled. If I 
asked him directly for information, he wouldn’t give 
it, but I’ll play him lightly and cable instructions 
across as often as I think wise.” 

Franklin positively felt happy at his latest idea. 
With a fair start of $3000 he could become a million- 
aire in a year, or even in a month, and Tann perhaps 
not a bit the wiser. C 

The pandemonium on the quay increased every 
minute : the hurry-skurry and shouts of the porters, 
the oflficiousness of the neatly-attired stewards, 
meeting the passengers, enquiring their numbers, 
and seizing on their hand-baggage ; the yelling of or- 
ders by the officers, and the clanking and creaking of 
the crane, all showed the moment for departure to be 
close at hand. 


116 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“ I guess I’d better be going,” said Franklin, with a 
sigh ; but it was another five minutes before he offered 
to move. 

“I hope you’ll have a favorable passage ; and when 
you get home think occasionally of the poor exile,” 
and he smiled in his sickliest manner. He didn’t feel 
like smiling. 

“ Good-bye, Miss Harper.” 

“ Good-bye, Mr. Elliott.” Belle gave him a hearty 
shake of the hand, and became a trifle tearful ; for she 
was very fond of Franklin, in a sisterly way. 

“Good-bye, Jack, good luck to you!” A friendly 
grip, and Franklin turned, last of all, to the one 
he would remember most. “Good-bye, Violet,” he 
said, not observing that he had used her Christian 
name. “ Good-bye, and God bless you ! ” 

Violet smiled with the pleasure he had unconsci- 
ously caused her, and taking his proffered hand, said 
very shyly and sadly, “Good-bye, Franklin.” Dear 
girl ! she was not to be outdone in tenderness at the 
moment of farewell. She allowed Elliott to hold her 
hand, until the length and impressiveness of the cere- 
mony attracted attention, and she looked up and met 
his glance. If ever a man saw encouragement in a 
maiden’s eyes, Franklin did then. He took off his hat 
gravely, bowed to his friends, descended the steps to 
the lower deck and crossed the gangway to the 
wharf. 

There he stood, watching the bustle, and the final 
packages being carried across, and every now and 
then turned his eyes upwards to the saloon-deck and 
his heaven. 

Jack and his two charges stood leaning over the 
rail, smiling at him cheerfully. The girls held their 
handkerchiefs in their hands, to be in readiness to 
wave them on departure; but they used them at 
short intervals to take little pieces of grit out of the 
corners of their eye-lids, while Jack winked down to 
Franklin to call his attention to the blissful fact. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


117 


All the baggage was now on board, and most of it 
out of the way ; the few passengers who had lingered 
on shore to the last, had walked up the gangway and 
were pacing the decks above, smoking, and thor- 
oughly enjoying themselves. Quite right ! In a few 
hours, perhaps, their appetites for ' smoking, as for 
everything else, may have departed; they may be 
lying on their deck-chairs, sallow and bilious. 
Warning bells are again sounded, and the dock-hands 
at length unhitch the large cables and throw them 
to the sailors on the steamer. The water seethes, 
bubbles and flows white from the beating of the screw, 
and the huge ship slowly leaves the side of the wharf. 
The usual waving of handkerchiefs begins, long 
before there is any necessity for it ; but big as is the 
ocean-racer, it diminishes its huge proportions with 
distance. The figures of the people on deck, to ordi- 
nary eyes become blended into a confused mass; but 
Franklin believes he can still distinguish the small 
form he loves. He sees the handkerchiefs waving, 
and flatters himself that by this time the girls are 
really crying. He summons up courage enough to 
kiss his hand. Some other girl replies, thinking, of 
course, that he is some other fellow. 

Smaller and smaller grows the steamer to his gaze, 
and he catches a last glimpse of her, swinging round 
and making for the open sea. 

With a final sigh, he turned round to take his de- 
parture inland, and there, grinning sardonically, 
stood Sadler A. Tann, looking more like himself 
than Franklin had ever seen him. “ You here ? ” he 
said, curtly, and with undisguised aversion. 

“ Yes^; aren’t you glad to see me ? ” 

“ That is a very unnecessary question; you know 
that seeing you does not affect me in any way, good 
or bad.” 

“Not good or bad, but indifferent. Hey ?” chuck- 
led Sadler. “She’s gone. We shall be much jollier 
now.” 


118 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“ Shall we ? ” sneered Franklin; “ I’m sorry to hear 
you have not been jolly in the past. What train did 
you come on ? ” 

“ I didn’t come by train at all,” replied Tann. “I 
walked.” 

“You did the best walking on record, then?” 
laughed Franklin. 

“ I was exactly a minute and a half, by my chro- 
nometer. I didn’t hurry, but I had no misadventures, 
strange to say. It’s wonderful,” he proceeded, “the 
number of mishaps I’ve experienced since I became a 
man. I took on this mortal frame to experience the 
usual pleasures of mortality, but I’ve had a much 
larger percentage of miseries. All the time I’ve been 
with you, you've never had any disasters. You 
never get knocked on the head and robbed, or kicked 
by an iron-clad horse, or locked up, or dropped into a 
dirty, slimy river, do you ? ” 

“Not that I’m aware of,” said Franklin. 

“ Well, then, where’s the fun of it ? ” 

“Here,” answered Franklin, pointing to himself. 
“I enjoy your mishaps immensely.” 

“ Do you? I don’t see why I should come in for 
everything.” 

“You’re so young and innocent, my friend. You’ll 
grow out of it in time,” and Franklin could not resist 
laughing at the satanic one's woe-begone visage. 
“Well, I’ll leave you,” said Tann, suddenly. “As 
you’re still so disagreeable. I’ll leave you and get 
back.” 

“ To Paris ? ” interrupted Franklin. 

“ Yes. I didn’t bring even a tooth-brush with me.” 

“ Could you take me along ? ” 

“ I could, but you wouldn’t like it.” 

“Why not? It would be a novelty.” 

“ I shall have to make you invisible.” 

“ How will you do that ? ” 

“That’s my business. You are now invisible I ” 

‘ ‘ I am ? ” said Franklin. ‘ ‘ That’s good ! very clever ! 


THE AMEEIOAH FAUST. 


119 


But I’m still tangible, I perceive. I can feel my- 
self.” 

“ Of course. If you were intangible you could do the 
journey as quickly as I do. You cannot possess in- 
tangibility until after death.” 

“ So,” questioned Franklin, “if anybody were to run 
up against me now, they could not go through me?” 

“No,” answered Tann. “They would be com- 
pelled to go round.” 

“ When do we start ? ” 

“ Right now. Get on my shoulders.” 

“No,” said Franklin, “ pick-a-back’s the best.” 

He got upon Sadler’s back and locked his feet to- 
gether in front. 

“A very curious phenomenon this, Sadler! ’’ex- 
claimed Franklin. ‘ ‘ Here I am, to all intents and pur- 
poses, sitting on nothing. It’s well worth making a . 
note of.” 

“Ready ? ” questioned Tann. 

“ Yes,” answered Franklin, “ go ahead I ” 

Tann rose from the earth. 

“Wait a second,” said Franklin. “Take things 
slowly; I should like to see the country.” Sadler did 
as desired. 

“ Fly a bit to the north; I want to see La Bourgogne. 
Go on ! no hesitation 1 ” 

Sadler, being under contract, did as he was ordered. 
Franklin saw the vessel again, but the girls were 
below. Jack was on deck, however; so they stopped 
close to him, and Elliott whispered in his ear, “ Take 
good care of Violet.” 

Jack started, and dropped his cigar overboard. He 
marvelled whence the sound proceeded, as he saw no 
one near him ; and made a mental resolve to lay the 
occurrence before the Psychological Society when he 
reached New York. 

“Home!” said Franklin to Sadler, as if the latter 
were the regular coachman ; and they turned from the 
ocean and sped over the land at express speed. 


m 


THE AMERICAU’ FAUST. 


“Fifty miles per hour will be quite sufficient/’ re- 
marked Elliott. Sadler slowed up. 

“This reminds me of Ovid’s Metamorphoses,” said 
Franklin. ‘ ‘ Did you know a fellow named Daedalus ? ” 
“Yes,” answered Tann; “a gol-darned idiot he 
was, too.” 

“ He wasn’t a myth, then : there was some truth 
in the story? ” 

“ Yes,” growled Sadler. “ He invented a flying-ma- 
chine, and threw himself off from a high tower one af- 
ternoon to try the effect. He was collected a hundred 
yards away, and the machine was sold for old iron.” 

“All the rest is poetical exaggeration. He didn’t 
get too near the sun? ” 

“ No ! too near the earth ! ” replied Tann. 

“And all that bosh about his son Icarus and the 
wax wings was Ovid’s invention?” 

“ I suppose so; I never read it,” was Tann’s reply. 

“ What city is this we’re going over now? ” 

“ Rouen,” answered Tann. 

‘ ‘ Are you tired ? ” asked Franklin. ‘ ‘ Because if you 
are, we can rest on this chimney-stack.” 

There was a high factory chimney close to them. 
Sadler — not that his spiritual nature was weary — de- 
scended to the chimney, and they seated themselves 
upon the edge, almost in the midst of the smoke. 

Franklin was careful; not being a steeple-jack he 
did not throw away chances. The height was enor- 
mous, and looking down the dead level of bricks made 
the altitude appear even greater. There were little 
dots moving in the yard below— workmen no doubt. 
Sadler was sitting on the north side of the chimney, 
boasting of the speed with which he had changed from 
the immaterial to the material, when a sharp gust of 
wind played round the flapping sides of his coat and 
destroyed his equilibrium. He fell headlong, back- 
wards, down the chimney in the midst of the dense 
smoke. 

Franklin was so horrified that he tightened his grip 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


121 


on the lightning-rod beside him, but did not attempt 
to pry into the black, sulphurous depths. In less than 
three minutes Tann was by his side again, sooty, 
grimy, and scorched in several places. 

“I was compelled to work a miracle, and have the 
fire extinguished.” 

In fact Franklin had noticed a cessation of the 
smoke. 

“That,” continued Sadler, “is the smartest thing 
I’ve ever done.” 

“ What, falling down that shaft? ” 

“No! working that little surprise on the factory. 
I fell so fast that I was in the fire before I had time to 
express a wish ; but you can bet your boots I wasn’t 
there half a second before I was out again. ” 

“ You’ll have to manufacture a new body if you 
damage the one you have much more.” 

“That’s what I’m thinking. This one won’t last 
the season out, if I am not careful. They’re in a fear- 
ful stew below ; that is what delayed me. This fire 
isn’t supposed to go out night or day, and here it is 
out, pop! without any reason. It’s funny.” 

“ Yes? just light it again, and we’ll start.” 

“Very well,” said Sadler, and the smoke again 
issued from the chimney. 

Franklin bestrode his companion’s back once more 
and they launched themselves off the tower. This 
time they made a longer flight, at an elevation of 
about a hundred feet or so from the ground. A 
swallow ran full into Franklin in its course, so there 
was no doubt as to his invisibility. Sadler was mov- 
ing at such a terrific rate that he went through a 
flock of clamorous crows, not being able to check his 
speed in time to avoid them. 

“Don’t do that again, please,” shouted Franklin. 
“Very nearly had my eyes pecked out by accident. 
Some crow trying to follow an insect into my eye, I 
guess. Where are we now? ” 

“A village of no importance.” 


122 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“I can see that,” said Franklin. “It’s pretty^ 
though. Let’s go down ! ” 

They descended into a small country churchyard 
and sat down on a tombstone. Franklin felt so 
eminently peaceful that he drew out his cigar-case 
and treated himself and Tann to a smoke. It 
was about four in the afternoon, — a beautiful August 
afternoon, with a hot, blazing sun up above. But 
where they were, in the shade of the elms, it was 
cool and pleasant. 

Tann smoked and moralized. Elliott puffed ont 
blue wreaths, which reminded him of the smoke of 
the steamer, and of the treasure fast putting distance 
between her and himself. He wandered among the 
graves, for Tann had dozed off into a sonorous sleep, 
which, however, did not interfere with his smoking. 

There was a group of three near a new-made grave ; 
evidently a poor widow with her two children, both 
toddling little mites, one scarce able to walk. The 
young ones were playing about merrily, plucking 
daisies from the grass and bringing them proudly to 
their mother. If Violet were in his place, thought 
Franklin, she would be sitting down in cheerful con- 
versation with that poor woman in a minute; she 
would relieve her, and would steal away, as if ashamed 
of her charity. Of course he couldn’t sit down and 
talk to a strange woman, but he might give way to his 
compassionate impulses for the dear one’s sake. He 
approached and gave one of the children a handful of 
gold coin— all he had on him in fact — and then ran 
for all ho was worth to Tann. 

“Come on! let’s be off,” he said. 

Tann, seeing there was urgency, took up his burden 
and sailed away, asking what was the matter as he 
went. 

Franklin partly explained, and Sadler was so dis- 
pleased that he had serious thoughts of dropping 
Elliott. A second’s deliberation convinced him that 
Franklin’s demise on top of a worthy action would 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


123 


not prove profitable to him, especially as the contract 
would be broken by the fall. 

“This reminds me of the ‘Arabian Nights,’ ” said 
Franklin. “ Some fellow, I remember, was lifted out 
of bed in the night and dropped at the gates of Bag- 
dad. Was it Bagdad? ” 

“How am I to know!” replied, Tann, savagely, 
“ I’ve had no time to waste reading fairy tales.” 

“What a useful spy you would make in war time, 
Tann,” said Elliott. “ I never thoroughly realized 
the advantage of invisibility till I saw you, that is, 
till I knew you. With, such a power, I should say 
any dishonorable man could commit almost any 
enormity, without fear of detection.” 

“ Why, of course I can work all that for you,” said 
Tann, eagerly. “You’ve only to give the enormity a 
name.” 

“I’ll think about it, Tann,” said Franklin, with a 
laugh. “There’s no hurry; don’t snap at me like 
that.” 

By this time they were over the chimney tops of 
Paris. Sadler descended in one of the squares, and 
Franklin alighted, and they walked up to their rooms 
and resumed their visibility. After a wash and a 
general cleaning up, Franklin made his way to the 
dining-room and went through the usual routine of 
courses, without knowing what he ate. His soul was 
far away. 


CHAPTER X. 


IN WHICH S. A. TANN COMMENCES THE ASSAULT, AND IS 
REPULSED WITH CONSIDERABLE LOSS. 

While La Bourgogne steamed its way across the 
Atlantic, which was as calm and unruffled as a way- 
side pool, Franklin and Sadler gave themselves up to 
the pursuit of pleasure. Paris is at all times a vast 
whirlpool of gayeties and distractions, and to a 
stranger, the whirlpool in the summer months per- 
haps appears most violent in its gyrations. 

Hundreds of his countrymen make this airy, frivo- 
lous city their temporary summer abode, and Frank- 
lin, being a man who was always increasing an 
already large circle of acquaintances, found his hands 
full. Sadler A. Tann, too, picked up acquaintances; 
how, when and where Elliott could never guess. Sad- 
ler, it was evident, had the entry everywhere. He 
never paid to go to any place of amusement, be it 
picture-gallery, garden or theatre. He was a recog- 
nized deadhead. 

Even at the low-class dancing resorts, where women 
of loose joints and flexible morals performed feats 
that might be termed acrobatic, the attendants 
seemed to know and pass him unquestioned, and 
Franklin sometimes wondered if he didn’t run the 
places himself. They were on the way now to a little 
village down the Seine, and Franklin was asking him- 
self if the boatmen and waiters and hotel-keepers 
would show him the same familiar deference, when 
Tann called out, 

“ Here we are! ” 

The train drew up at a small station, and the 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


125 


pair got out and walked up a dusty road to a little 
inn by the river side. 

“ By the way,” said Franklin, as they were nearing 
their destination, “ who are these people I am invited 
to meet on this water party? ” 

“ They’re all right,” answered Tann, shiftily. 

“Yes? Well, I didn’t ask what was the matter 
with them, but who they were.” 

“ Two fellows and four girls.” 

“That’s a pretty answer! I supposed they would 
be of two sexes. Are they respectable? ” 

“ Eespectable ! The fellows are of the best families 
in Pans.” 

“And the ladies?” 

“ The ladies stand pre-eminent in their own circle.’’ 

“Umph!”said Franklin. He saw through Tann’s 
quibbling. It was another plan to get him entangled 
with some disreputable women. It was as clear as 
filtered daylight. Before he, S. A., could really sink 
him, Franklin, in iniquity, it was necessary to 
provide the/emme to be chercfiezed. Tann was not 
such a fool, after all; he attacked men through 
their weaknesses. But Franklin was all the more on 
his guard. 

“They’re here before us! ” shouted Sadler, as half a 
dozen figures came out on the rickety balcony of the 
inn. 

“Comment ga va, Monsieur Tann^'''' hailed one of 
the girls at the top of her voice. 

^'Tres biongf^ screamed Tann, with a palpable de- 
sire to be funny; and the party above expanded 
its assortment of lungs in loud, meaningless laugh- 
ter. 

“ Come down,” continued Tann, “ and I’ll introduce 
my friend.” 

“You come up,” replied one of the beauties. 

“No, come down,” said Tann. “You might as 
well ; you've got to, any way. I guess you can’t row 
up there.” 


126 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


There was a fluttering of skirts and a renewed 
attack of giggle, and the balcony was vacated. 

“ I’m in for a brilliant afternoon with these frothy, 
brainless creatures,” thought Franklin. Nevertheless, 
he resolved to conquer his aversion and make'himself 
as pleasing as he could. 

The two gentlemen and the ladies soon joined them ; 
and Tann had his hands full introducing them to 
Franklin, who of course expressed himself delighted 
to make their acquaintance. Oh, these falsehoods of 
convenience ! The double quartette walked down to 
the river banks, where lay their boats, each ready 
equipped with the implements of aquatic motion, 
and with what was more important, weU-stocked 
luncheon baskets. 

Franklin found himself seated in the boat beside a 
very pretty blonde — such a pronounced blonde as 
to create doubts on the ground of naturalness ; but 
the effect was pleasing to the eye, and if “Julie ” had 
never opened her mouth, Franklin would have 
admired her as one does a lifelike painting. 

The tete-a-tete arrangement was Sadler’s idea. 
That wnworthy had insisted upon assigning one lady to 
one gentleman ; but the agreement was, that however 
they might bo separated, all were to meet at the inn 
at from seven to half-past. 

The four boats started off in straggling order, and 
Franklin, who did not quite see how he was to enter- 
tain the lady conversationally the whole afternoon, 
especially in the Gallic tongue, proposed that they 
should row a race to some place lower down the 
river. 

The idea was seized on with avidity ; but the others 
did not fancy exerting themselves for sport alone and 
a prize of some kind was demanded. Whereupon 
Julie, with a shy, modest glance at Franklin, took off 
her bracelet and offered it as the guerdon of prowess. 

“ The gentleman who wins it will give it to the lady 
he loves best.” That’s what Julie said, and her eyes 








THE AMERICAN FAUST. 127 

glowed at Franklin, who laughed and wondered what 
he should do with it — if he won it. 

The boats drew up in line, side by side, Franklin on 
the west, Tann next him, and the two other gentle- 
men beyond ; Armand du Something adjoining Tann, 
and Justin on the east bank. There was an islet about 
two miles down, which would be a suitable goal. 
Whoever got there first was to find the place for 
luncheon. 

Franklin made up his mind not to win. He did 
not want to be troubled with the young gusher’s 
bracelet. 

“None of your supernatural business, Tann,” 
remarked Franklin, jocularly, as they waited for the 
signal to go. It was a few minutes to two, and the 
first stroke of the hour on a distant spire was to start 
the race. How slowly the time passed! The girls 
grew impatient, and fidgeted uneasily with the rudder 
lines ; and Julie brought to bear her whole stock of 
oglings and lip-pursings, fascinating shivers and 
quivers, and little shrieks of child-like dismay, at 
which Franklin smiled. Julie fancied she was making 
an impression, and she already looked upon him as a 
“ protector.” The few minutes’ suspense seemed like 
an hour, and the perspiration began to flow even 
before the exertion began. At last the brazen bell 
struck the hour, and the oars dipped into the water 
almost simultaneously, Tann dashing off in the lead, 
with the short, choppy strokes of a novice. Justin 
was next, a yard or so in advance of Armand, and 
Franklin brought up the rear. If he wished to make 
an effort, it would be more likely to be successful 
when there should be room to pass his opponents. 
Justin pulled a very fair stroke; Armand was very 
little better than Tann, and Franklin, who had 
rowed in the Yale eight, knew he could win easily if 
he tried. 

However, he was not trying, and he soon dropped 
about three boat-lengths behind Armand, 


128 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


Julie was in distress. “ Oh, Monsieur Franklin, my 
dear, I shall lose my bracelet ! ” 

“Didn’t you expect to?” asked Franklin, secretly 
amused. 

‘ ‘ Mon Dieu ! No ! It is worth five hundred francs. ” 

“{Mercenary little beast! ” thought Elliott. 

“ I thought you looked so big, and strong, and good- 
natured that you would win it for poor little Julie.” 
She was acting; she wrung her hands in distress, 
opened wide her pretty eyes till they were positively 
pitiful and drooped the corners of her mouth, as if 
preparing to cry. 

“Fine comedy!” commented Franklin, mentally. 
Her simulated fright was positively artistic. 

“Dear Mr. Elliott, do win my pretty bracelet for 
me ! ” she pleaded. 

“ I don’t know that I can,” answered Franklin. 

“ Do, and I will do anything for you, I will, indeed ! ” 
she exclaimed, piteously. 

“You’ll have the boat over, if you don’t pay more 
attention to the steering,” said Franklin, brusquely. 

By this time they had gone about half a mile, and 
Tann was showing weakness. Justin had passed him, 
and was leading two lengths. Armand was three be- 
hind Tann, and Elliott three behind the rear-most. 
Justin was gaining at every stroke, and his lady friend 
was already gloating over Julie’s annoyance. A bend 
of the river hid the leader from Elliott’s view, and 
Julie’s agony knew no bounds. Even then Franklin 
would not have exerted himself, but very unwisely 
Justin made a national question of the race. He had 
so long a lead that he took off his hat and shouted : 
“Vive la France ! a has I’Amerique !” after which 
taunt he rowed with all his strength, meaning to win 
by half a mile, if he could. The words barely reached 
Franklin’s ears; but they sufficed. V/ith the long, 
steady stroke of the practised oarsman he settled 
down to his work, and the boat glided through the 
water^ which gurgled at the bows. 


THE AMEEICAN FAUST. 


129 


The regular click of the oars in the rowlocks in- 
spired Julie with frantic joy, and she waved her hand- 
kerchief excitedly; but Franklin damped her ardor, 
by saying, 

You’ll be more useful steering than cheering.” 

He passed Armand, who was gaining on Tann, and 
smiled encouragingly at the young Frenchman, with, 
“You’ll be second, if you persevere.” 

Next he attacked Tann, who redoubled his efforts as 
he heard Elliott approaching. There was a sharp con- 
flict for a few seconds, but Sadler caught a crab and 
his opponent slipped by. 

“Good-bye, Sadler,” shouted Elliotts “Meet you 
again at luncheon.” 

Now came the contest. Justin was nearly twenty 
lengths in front, and that was a formidable advantage. 
Franklin, rowing thirty-two to the minute, powerful, 
muscular strokes which forced the bow clear out of 
the water, bore down upon his Gallic adversary. 
Justin saw him coming, set his teeth and pulled a 
faster stroke. For about a minute he appeared to gain ; 
but the effort failed to last and the sweep of his oars 
slackened. There was no “beef” to back up his 
exertions. Franklin did not hurry. He was experi- 
enced in boat-races, and he was an excellent judge of 
pace. Inch by inch he drew upon the leader ; there 
were soon only two boat-lengths of daylight between 
them. Justin gamely attempted another spurt; he 
gained a length and lost it. Franklin rowing well 
within himself, came still closer. There was now 
only a length between the boats. A watcher on the 
bank would have known that the race was virtually 
over, but Franklin, shamming weariness, Justin fell 
into the trap and worked desperately to tire his op- 
ponent out. With each spurt his stroke grew feebler. 

Franklin was there, with the bow of his boat level 
with Justin’s rudder. He could not shake him off. 
The stern chase may be long to the chaser, but it is 
death to the chased, The rQonotonous noise of the oars 


130 


THE AMERICAN EAUST. 


exasperated Justin to frantic endeavor ; but he con- 
tinued to grow weaker, until Franklin was unable to 
stay behind any longer. They raced bow to bow for 
some time; then Justin, with a gasp, dropped his 
arms, thoroughly exhausted. The poor young French- 
man had no notion how slowly he was moving now. 
Even the others were coming up to him, bad oars- 
men as they were. He thought not of them, for 
Franklin was still pretending exhaustion. 

His spirit was wonderful ; he still went on, making 
spurt after epurt, but Franklin was not to be 
caught again. The island— the winning-post— heaved 
in sight, three quarters of a mile ahead, and Justin 
made a final ^nd useless attempt. What with the 
exertion and the heat and intensity of mortification he 
fell in the bottom of the boat in a half faint. Frank- 
lin backed water, fastened his defeated foe’s boat to 
his own and towed it -along, adding insult to injury. 

Julie was in raptures ; but for a fear of upsetting 
the boat, she would have flung her arms around the 
victor’s neck and kissed him. 

Now the other rowers, seeing Elliott with a cargo 
attached, tried their utmost to come up ; but though 
the work was a trifle harder than defeating Justin, he 
kept his lead to the end. Within a quarter of a mile 
of the island, he cast Justin loose and rowed in alone, 
two hundred yards ahead ; Armand second, a length 
in front of the reviving Justin, and Tann last. Elliott 
grounded his boat and helped Julie out ; she ran into 
the thick wood of the island, saying : ‘ ‘ Get your 
prize,” and waving the bracelet at him. Franklin, 
puzzled at first what to do, felt bound to follow her ; 
so he ga,v0 chase and finally caught her. She turned 
sharply round, fell into his arms, and lay there 
panting after her run, and laughing musically. 

Julie was a bewitching little siren. She put her 
plump arms round his neck and said, “You dear, 
good fellow,” and kissed him once, twice, maybe 
oftener. They were quite alone in the leafy gloom---. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


131 


not that Julie was particular; she hugged Elliott 
closely to her, and he w-as decidedly embarrassed. 
But he unclasped her arms, and said, 

“ Come on, the others will be looking for us.” 

“Oh, they won’t trouble,” remarked Julie, with 
her wickedest look, and Elliott said to himself that 
Tann was a cleverer devil than he had given him 
credit for. Fortunately he was on his mettle. 

“ You must know this is a decidedly awkward situ- 
ation for a gentleman.” 

“It’s awkward for the lady, too,” retorted Julie, 
with a pout. “But I don’t mind it,” and she took his 
hand again and pressed it fiercely, sidling up to 
him, like a child wishing to be petted, Franklin did 
not know how to crush this young person and retain 
his politeness ; it was difficult, very difficult. It was 
equally so for her to flirt without assistance. Eecog- 
nizing this fact, she grew angry. 

“You don’t seem to like me,” she said, looking 
down on the ground, and ready to burst into tears. 

“Oh, yes,” answered Franklin, “I guess you’re all 
right — of your kind. But,” he added, under his breath, 
“ it’s a very bad kind.” He wondered what his mod- 
est Violet would think, if she saw him in this com- 
promising situation. Would it count in his favor that 
the lady did not object to being compromised ? 

“Come!” said Elliott, somewhat roughly, shaking 
his hand free from her grasp, “ let’s get back.” 

This conversation took place in shorter time than 
it requires to write it. Franklin started to walk 
back, and Julie, looking as black as thunder, and 
fidgeting uneasily with the bracelet, walked by his 
side. She, one of the prettiest of her class, was unused 
to such treatment. She hated her victor now as 
much as she had loved him for his victory. 

“ What will you do with the bracelet? ” she asked. 

“ Oh, you may keep it! ” laughed Franklin, lightly. 

‘‘I’ve a great mind to throw it away into the 
water.” 


132 


THE AMERICAN" FAUST. 


“I don’t think you will! ” said Elliott, gravelyo 

He was right; her nature was incapable of such 
depth, even of capriciousness; she was all froth and 
sparkle, like fresh champagne. Julie was not the one 
to throw anything away which might some day be 
valuable as a loan to what the English call “ Uncle,” 
and the French, “ Aunt.” 

On their return^ they found the rest of the party in 
the act of landing. The other ladies looked suspi- 
ciously at Julie, but laughed when they saw her black 
looks. 

Franklin was easy and careless, and satisfied with 
himself. 

“ What have you done with the bracelet? ” asked 
one of the girls with a smirk. 

“ Eeturned it to the owner,” said Franklin. “It 
was of no use to me.” 

“And how about the lady you love best?” asked 
another. 

, ‘ ‘ She’s too far off to take presents. She’s what you 
might call a distant connection,” laughed Frank- 
lin. • 

“ This has been a great day for the United States ! ” 
announced Tann, with well-assumed patriotism. 
“America is the head of the river.” 

“Yes, and the tail,” added Franklin, alluding to 
Tann’s ignominious defeat. 

Meanwhile luncheon had been spread, and the party 
settled itself to partake of the cold proven- 
der. Julie had recovered her equaninhty and was re- 
turning to the charge, determined to conquer or die. 

She ran a great risk of dying. 

Tann was inimitable ; he had never seen his native 
country but that did not prevent his enlarging on 
its merits. 

“ Have you ever heard the true story of Columbus’s 
discovery of America? ” he asked. 

The company was compelled to admit it had never 
heard but one account and that never varied. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


133 


“ Well,” began Sadler, “ what I’m going to tell you 
has been a secret for hundreds of years. Columbus 
enjoined secrecy on the two or three who were on the 
inside, because, as he said, ‘ Boys, I wish to stand well 
with posterity,’ and they, having no ambition that 
way, bound themselves by oath never to reveal what 
I am about to disclose. It doesn’t matter now if it 
does get about; nobody will believe it. Columbus 
was a pirate ! ” 

This statement was greeted with a shout of laugh- 
ter. 

“You may laugh,” said Sadler, “ but hear me out. 
Columbus took his name from the state capital of 
Ohio. When quite a boy he yearned to follow the 
sea for a living, and at eighteen he found himself 
first mate on board an Arab dhow, which carried on 
a profitable trade in black ivory, and ran between the 
coast of Guinea and Cadiz. He was very fond of 
talking with the slaves in the hold, and in this way 
he picked up much valuable information. It seems 
that they had a tradition that far across the ocean, 
beyond the Canaries and Verdes, there was a great 
and glorious land, whose flag was the ‘Stars and 
Stripes,’ and where the eagle flapped its wings to the 
tune of ‘Hail Columbia.’ Columbus heard this, 
believed it, and being of a red copper-color, like the 
North American Indians, concluded that he had been 
stolen away in his youth by gypsies. He was right. 
Science has proved that the Icelailders had com- 
munication with America, long before Columbus’s 
time. 

“He immediately formulated his plans; he had 
vowed to discover the city from which he derived his 
name, and to this end, embarked in the hazardous 
calling of piracy. All his savings were invested in a 
galleon, of two hundred tons burden, known in those 
days as a ‘ caraque.’ With a band of choice spirits he 
commenced a life of lawlessness and discovery; he 
circumnavigated the globe, and chanced on the 


134 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


United States, Bra2dl, and even Australia and New 
Zealand. Being thoroughly satisfied that they ex- 
isted, he determined to discover them ; and to give 
greater tone to the undertaking, he roped Ferdinand 
of Spain into it. 

“‘I will give you six caraques to find America 
with, if you can make the egg stand on the table,’ 
said the king. 

“Columbus accepted the test, and calling for a 
fresh egg, shook it up, broke the yolk, which all 
flowed to the lower end, and gently and successfully 
balanced the fruit of the hen. 

“‘Very good,’ said Ferdinand. ‘If any man can 
discover America, you’re the boy.’ 

“Thereupon Columbus set out with six caraques, 
and tinned provisions for a six months’ journey ; but 
having been there before he had no difficulty in find- 
ing the way, and three months and four days after he 
left Lisbon, he passed the Sandy Hook lightship and 
anchored in New York Bay. 

“ The Mayor and others came out to meet him, and 
as he set foot in Castle Garden, he said, ‘ Where are 
we now? ’ 

“ The Mayor answered, ‘ In America.’ 

“‘America!’ remarked Columbus; ‘ then I have 
discovered it at last. ’ 

“His followers dispersed throughout the city and 
set up in business as fruit venders; but Coluipbus 
returned to Europe and lectured on his discoveries, 
and became famous in consequence. 

“ He had just induced Ferdinand to advance him 
money on another continent he was going to dis- 
cover, viz. : Australia, when he died. 

“Only three of his pirate comrades knew that he 
had been to America before he discovered it, and 
they kept the secret locked in their breasts. One 
of the pirates was my grandfather, three times 
removed. ” 

“ America is a great country,” added Tann; and on 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


135 


hints given him by Franklin, he proceeded to de- 
scribe New York, making every house a palace, 
every street an etherialized boulevard. 

“We have buildings twenty-five stories high,” he 
stated; “ all the stairways have beer saloons on the 
landings, in which the weary traveller on his climb 
may rest and refresh.” 

“What’s the matter with the elevators?” asked 
Elliott. 

“ They were not running when I was there in the 
sixteenth century, with Columbus.” 

There was another yell of delight at this, and Jus- 
tin gave it as his opinion that Columbus was a 
Frenchman. 

“ Everything that ever was done in the world, of 
any importance, was done by Frenchmen,” he proudly 
announced; “we are first in literature, love and 
war.” 

“We give in to you on love,” said Franklin; “ on 
literature and war, no. In war you must admit that 
the British have whipped you nearly every time.” 

Justin began to foam, and muttered, “By treach- 
ery.” 

“Treachery, or no treachery,” added Franklin, 
“the fact remains. Well, a hundred years back, we 
Americans whipped the British; therefore America 
can whip the world, and don’t you forget it ! ” 

The ladies applauded Fyanklin, and Justin grew 
fierce and warlike, and sacre'd England and America, 
impartially. 

The champagne was unlimited, and the ladies in- 
dulged in it far more freely than the gentlemen, so that 
before long their tongues were rattling away and gen- 
eral delirious excitement possessed them. Julie be- 
came more and more affectionate to Franklin ; she pre- 
tended to be tired and leaned her golden head against 
his shoulder. Much as he would have liked to move 
and drop her down, he could not do it. 

The sun was now shining directly into the camp- 


136 


THE AMEEICAN FAUST. 


ing ground ; the parasols were brought into requisition 
and the ladies sat in their shade, while the gentlemen 
lounged at their feet. Julie of course seized on Frank- 
lin ; she threw herself down beside him and putting 
her parasol between them and the others, said, 

“ I forgive you.” 

Franklin said, “Thanks, but don't go to any ex- 
pense on my account. ” 

Julie sighed and smiled, and smiled and sighed. 
She let her hand fall on his and drew nearer. There 
is no doubt that she was pretty, exceedingly so. 
Her figure was symmetrically plump and neatly at- 
tired ; Franklin was bound to confess it to himself. 

“It’s very warm, isn’t it, Franklin?” She called 
him Franklin now, and very prettily too ; but he 
didn’t seem to care. What was the matter with the 
man? she thought; she did not seem to make any 
progress with him. 

“ You don’t object to my smoking, do you? ” asked 
Franklin, taking a cigarette out of the pocket of his 
blazer. 

“ Oh, I adore smoking,” said Julie, enthusiastically. 
And Mr. Elliott wondered how it was that she could 
not say a simple thing like that without gushing over 
it. 

“ Tann must think I’m a fool. As if a vapid, showy 
creature like this could lure me ! ” He was boastful 
now, but he forgot that he had not been too adaman- 
tine all along. 

“ I’m glad Jack went back,” soliloquized Franklin; 
“ he might have been dragged into this, and he would 
have seen this girl pursuing me. It’s no good telling 
a fellow you dislike being pursued; he always be- 
lieves you have invited it.” 

So the day wore on; dusky twilight was upon 
them, and the row back was a delightful prospect. 
The ladies and their cavaliers sought their respective 
boats and launched out upon the river once more. 

Any person with the slightest suspicion of senti- 


THE AMEEICAK FAUST. 


137 


ment in his or her nature must have a tendency to 
silence under such circumstances. There was the 
river flowing with scarce a ripple on it, save where it 
swashed among the reeds skirting the low eastern 
bank. The other bank was high and prettily fringed 
with trees, which threw a clearly deflned black 
shadow down on the silent water. The sky, a greenish 
blue above them, in the west was a glorious golden 
yellow ; the sun was sinking fast. Franklin, in ordi- 
nary, was not sentimental ; but it must be remembered 
that he was in love, and the girl he loved far away. 
So he fell into a reverie of some duration. Finally 
arousing himself with a start, he commenced rowing 
vigorously. 

“ Are you anxious to get home? ” asked Julie. 

“Yes,” said Franklin; “I want to write some let- 
ters.” 

“ One, I suppose, to your sweetheart? ” 

“ Your supposition is based on a likely hypothesis.” 

“I knew there was something! ” said Julie. 

“ There generally is,” agreed Elliott. 

“ Something to prevent you from loving me! You 
are in love with some good, sweet girl,” ventured 
Julie. Franklin nodded. “ And you were contrasting 
her with me all the time! ” 

“You reminded me of her — you are so different.” 

“ I’m sorry and I’m glad. I could have really liked 
you, and I hope you’ll be happy with her. The life I 
lead gets very sickening; but there is no other way 
that would suit me now. I was innocent once— long 
since.” (She was not so young as she looked, then .) 
“I’m not a born Parisian,” she continued; “perhaps 
that accounts for my having once been respectable. ” 

That was not so bad. Franklin laughed, and then 
rowed on in silence. The laughter of the others came 
to their ears across the quiet water, and with all the 
gladness it spoke of, there was a touch of sadness in 
its influence on these two. They were the last. 
Whereat the reader may expect a dramatic situation 


138 


THE AMERICAK EAUST. 


to follow; but no, they remained last and notning 
came of it. There may even be disappointment ex- 
pressed at Tann’s not having been drowned, or par- 
tially, but it is not our object to depart from verac- 
ity, even for the sake of sensational effects. Tann did 
not upset his boat, though he was frequently near it. 
About eight o’clock the leader moored at the foot of 
the lawn adjoining the inn, and ten minutes later the 
whole party was in the depot awaiting the arrival of 
the return train. 

Tann and Elliott walked up and down together on the 
platform, apparently in angry argument. Mr. Tann 
looked disappointed, and the few words that reached 
the ears of Juhe, though confusing, fully confirmed 
her suspicions of his disgust with Frankiin. 

“I’m wearied,” he said; “it’s no use! I’m thinking 
of going home.” 

“What for? ” questioned Elliott, in surprise. 

“ I’m wanted. I’ll send a deputy; there are lots of 
my fellows who will be better in every way as com- 
panions for you than I am.” 

“No,” decided Frankiin, “my contract was for 
personal attendance. I want no meddling middle- 
men doing business with me. I deal only with prin- 
cipals.” 

Tann’s dealing was also confined to principles; but 
somehow he could not undermine his friend’s. 

“ Here’s the train 1 ” 

When they reached Paris, it was nine o’clock. 
Seven of the party repaired to a restaurant to finish 
the evening with a carousal, and the eighth, Frankhn, 
said, “ Good-night,” and left them to abuse him. 


CHAPTER XI. 


IN WHICH WE SHIFT THE. SCENE TO NEW YORK, AND 
OUR HEROINE BECOMES AN ADOPTED SISTER. 

In writing a novel (which can scarcely be called a 
novel) such as the one we were, and the reader is 
now, engaged upon, the author needs all the fictitious 
interest he can command; he cannot afford to let 
his heroine drop out of recollection, but must at 
intervals strive to create sympathy for her. This 
has the semblance of “Advice to Aspiring 
Novelists,” but it is a fact that established authors 
would do well to recognize; these gentlemen being 
somewhat apt to underrate the infiuence of their 
early trucklings to the conventionalities, and to over- 
rate the effect of their fine writing. It is inadvisable 
to kill your hero or heroine at the conclusion; it is 
just as well to have them both married, and if possible, 
to each other. Such an eventuality must be fore- 
shadowed in the opening chapters, in order to give 
the reader an opportunity of guessing the ultimate 
result, which proving to be correct according to sur- 
mise, induces him to pat himself on the back for his 
discriminating cleverness. When the story lacks 
continuity, when one chapter is not the natural out- 
come of the preceding, the author has a hard task 
before him to chain the attention of the adventurous 
reader. 

When there- is little mystification and consequently 
little absorbing interest, the scribe has but one 
chance left; he must be smart, bright, flashy, and 
take his victims along at a pace which forbids 
thought. ' 


140 


THE AMEEICAH FAUST. 


Having thrown a strong calcium light upon the 
weaknesses of this work, and having taken the wind 
out of the sails of criticism by the forestalling pro- 
cess, let us on. 

There was quite a crowd on the dock to greet 
the travellers. .There was Aunt Eveleena, Uncle 
Peter, and a crook-handled cane with an inspired 
looking youth attached, waiting to meet Violet. 
Her only relations I There were about twenty in all 
to congratulate the Harpers on their safe arrival. 
As the great steamer slowly moved along 
side the dock-head, those on shore cheered and 
waved handkerchiefs of all sizes and textures, dainty 
trifles of lace and large squares of flaming silk. The 
passengers from every available stand answered by a 
similar waving and a rush to the portion of the vessel 
destined for the reception of the gangway. Soon the 
crowd poiu-ed over the narrow planking and a 
chorus of greetings filled the air. “ Oh, Laura, how 
well you look!” “This way, old man! Got a hack 
on the street.” “So glad to see you!” “I’ll take 
your grip.” 

Violet, calm and pretty, walked down the temporary 
bridge, and was effusively embraced by Aunt Eve- 
leena, and haughtily smiled on by Uncle Peter. The 
delighted relatives carried the blossom of the family 
along unresistingly, leaving the youth with the help- 
less cast of features, to attend to her baggage and 
to get it expressed to the house. “Poor dear!” 
thought Eveleena, “ she must be tired after her long 
journey ! ” As they passed out of the gates, Violet 
nodded to Belle, who was standing by Jack, earnestly 
engaged in conversation with some friends; and 
Belle, with her old time heedlessness, cried out, 
“Vi, don’t forget the address!” Violet smiled her 
reply, and was hurried out on the street and into the 
Woods carriage, before she realized that her foot 
was upon her native pavement. 

The weekSj protracted themselves into apparent 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


141 


montlis for our heroine. The change of surround- 
ings and of society was altogether too sudden. 
Whereas in Paris, she had been sad while all around 
was bright, in the Fifth Avenue residence she was the 
bright break in an ever gloomy sky. Aunt Eveleena 
was a pathetic invalid, with the constitution of a 
clothes-horse; Uncle Peter was a grumpy sufferer, 
with the kicking powers of an ostrich, and Leon- 
ard shone in several walks of the animal king- 
dom. 

As before casually remarked, Leonard was an Anglo- 
maniac ; not that he was aware of it. His aping of the 
British dude was the result of his having taken con- 
tagion from ‘‘some other fellahs, don’t cher know?” 
He wore continuations uncomfortably tight and 
attractively light in color, but deucedly killing. At 
times these trousers formed part of a complete suit ; at 
other times they set off an absurdly short Prince 
Albert coat cut close to the figure. Leonard had a 
fall in his back. Very few tailors could take advan- 
tage of it ; that was one reason why he changed his 
costumer so often. Another reason was that his father 
kept him short. Leonard wore high collars, which 
caused his chin to stick out beyond the line of a small 
round nose, hardly noticeable except in profile. Be- 
neath his collar, a scarf of snowy white never failed to 
appear. Add a crook-handle stick and tan gloves, and 
you get Violet’s cousin, in his mid-day apparel. He 
was twenty-two years of age, and his sire was wealthy 
enough for him to do nothing at all, but trot around 
and “give the girls a treat, old fel 

Violet, from the very first, had dreaded walking out 
with it ; but a cousinly feeling of compassion and that 
womanly sympathy ever ready for those who can’t 
help it, assisted her to the requisite fortitude. Never- 
theless she blushed when she noticed the result of its 
daily promenade on Madison Square. Everybody 
stared at it, and a majority laughed and felt sorry 
for the girl. It attracted considerable attention to 


142 


THE AMERICAK EAUST. 


Violet, who finally became known as the “ pretty girl 
who takes that puppy out for his airing.” 

Leonard was making desperate running to oblige 
his parents ; though he rather fancied Belle was the 
girl for him. 

Violet was beautiful; he loved her like a sister, 
he told himself; “but the other girl was a jim- 
dandy ; so much dash and abandon about her ; 
suited his go-ahead nature, and all that sort of 
thing.” 

Aunt Eveleena, despite her perennially agitated 
nerves, noticed however, that his progress was slow, 
and begged him to appear less ridiculous, as a girl 
like Violet v^as only to be caught by sense. “You 
must endeavor to appear as if you had brains,” she 
said. “I am sure your dear father and I — weak as 
Heaven has willed me — have done our duty in having 
you educated thoroughly.” 

“Can’t make bricks without straw, deah mothah; 
old proverb, ye know ! ” stated Leonard, thinking to 
settle the discussion. 

“ You can make something to look like bricks! ” re- 
torted his mother. “If the deception is discovered 
after marriage it doesn’t matter. You’ll have the 
money then.” 

“ Hasn’t pa got enough? Ain’t I an only son, moth- 
ah mine?” asked Leonard, playfully. 

“Leonard! would you see half a million go out of 
the Woods family? ” 

“ How would it? If Vi were to marry some othah 
fellah she’d still belong to the Woods family. Got you 
theah, mothah.” 

“And the ‘othah fellah ’would take it all over to 
himself. You must marry her.” 

“ Hah if she don’t see it? ” 

“ You must propose to her and point it out till she 
does.” 

“ Mothah deah, you know not Avhat you ask ! ” said 
Leonard, tragically, putting his right band into the 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


143 


left inside-pocket of his coat and producing a cigar- 
ette case. 

“Leonard, put that away! you know I abhor the 
sight of smoke.” 

Leonard answered nothing, and Aunt Eveleena 
went on with her advice, and the boy finally con- 
sented to swallow his scruples and propose to his 
cousin the first opportunity, ‘ ‘ The beauty of it 
is,” he thought, “I am certain to be refused. It’ll 
be good practice for me though, and will come in use- 
ful when I really want to pop the question.” 

The conviction that he was too big an idiot to be 
considered seriously by Violet, whom he described as, 
“ a girl who frightens a fellah, by Jove! ” agitated his 
marrow. 

Those gray eyes gazing steadily into his, always 
made him feel uncomfortable and anxious to get away. 
He realized as well as any one that she was too good 
for him. What he wanted was some overpowering 
girl to order him about and to reduce him to abject 
submission. 

No opportunity offered that day for him to press 
his suit, and the following day was exceptionally 
unfavorable for the success his mother hoped for. 
Among the letters received that morning was one with 
the Republique Francaise postage stamp. It was from 
Paris — from Franklin. Violet flushed as she picked 
the letter up from her plate. The eagle eye of Aunt 
Eveleena had noted both the flush and the envelope. 

“ We’ll excuse you, Violet, if you wish to read your 
letter now,” said Aunt Ev, with her most gracious 
manner; but the plan did not work. Violet recovered 
her equanimity and put the note in her pocket unread, 
saying that it could wait. When she. was alone in her 
room she behaved in a way that would have driven 
Franklin crazy. She straightened the crumples out 
and actually kissed the handwriting. It was a very 
quiet, timid kiss. It was really nothing more than a 
pressure of the Hips, withoqt anything of the violent 


144 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


pursing and audible separation business; but Violet 
knew what it was passing though her mind, and she 
blushed for the second time that morning. 

“Dear Miss Woods: — I was nearly saying ‘dear 
Violet,’ but I feared you might think me too presump- 
tuous. I have, you see by this, availed myself of your 
gracious permission to write to you, and I give myself 
far more pleasure in the writing than I dare hope you 
receive in the reading.” 

Violet smiled at that as only girls built on Heaven’s 
best lines can smile. 

“I shall write most probably every week — I will 
say every week for certain ; then you will know, on 
failing to hear from me, either that something has 
happened, or that I have ceased to value your friend- 
ship as I now do ! ” 

There was an additional punctuation mark from Vio- 
let. She laughed to herself very softly, as if she 
knew more than she cared to tell, and then sighed, 
oh, so contentedly ! She went on reading. 

“I have very little news that would interest you. 
We think of going to Constantinople next Aveek; any- 
way we shall be there before you could reach me with 
a reply. I want to see all that I can now, so that 
when I settle down, as I hope to at no distant date, I 
shall feel no desire to travel again. America is good 
enough for me, though the converse may not hold. ” 

“That’s clever,” thought Violet, enthusiastically, 
and she gave herself over to meditation on the “set- 
tle doAvn” and “no distant date” clauses. 

“ I cannot write all I should like to. Then again, I 
can, but maybe I mayn’t ; for there are things which 
in communication are better by word of mouth. ” 

Um ! Strong hints these ! 

“ That is why this letter is so short.” 

“Too short,” reflected Miss Woods, turning over 
the leaf. 

“1 ^xpect to be in London, thr^ or four weeks. 


THE AMEltICAH FAUST. 


145 


from now, so please address letters to Grand Hotel, 
Charing Cross, if you desire to favor me with a reply. 
Believe me, 

“ Ever your devoted friend, 

“Franklin Elliott.” 

Violet finished her perusal and dropped her hands 
into her lap and gazed at an imaginary spot in the sky 
for several minutes ; at the end of which time she rose 
with a sigh, opened her dressing-case and entrusted 
the treasure to it with a show of reluctance. Then 
came a repetition of the attitude of thoughtfulness. 
She would have remained in her happy oblivion for a 
considerable period, had there not been an interrup- 
tion. A knock came to the door, and a voice followed. 

“ What are you doing, Violet? We are waiting for 
you.” Violet awoke with a start and another blush. 

“I’m coming, auntie!” She had forgotten all 
about the usual drive which her delicate relative. 
Aunt Eveleena, required to brace her poor nerves. In 
two minutes she was down-stairs, and was entering 
the carriage, when Belle Harper appeared. 

“ Going out driving, Vi? ” asked Belle. “ I was just 
calling on you. I’ve got nothing to do, so I guess 
I’ll go with you.” 

Before Aunt Eveleena could find an objection. Belle 
was sitting by Violet and in an animated conversa- 
tion. Leonard, also, who had intended to air his new- 
est on the Square, changed his mind, and took the seat 
by his mother, with a smirk at Belle, which met with 
but frigid recognition. 

“Violet, dear,” said Belle, turning to her friend 
and ignoring the Woods,. aunt and son, “I’ve great 
news! Jack received a letter from Franklin this morn- 
ing.” Leonard started with jealousy — Franklin! 
“He’s such a dear fellow, I’m quite in love with 
him.” Woods junior wriggled uneasily in his seat. 
“He asks after you three times in each page. It is 
evident he did not read his letter over after it was 


146 


THE AMERICAN EAUST. 


written, or he never would have sent it; it’s posi- 
tively ridiculous.” 

“ He wrote quite sensibly to me,” said Violet. And 
again her face lighted up with a faint flush of color 
which rendered her completely irresistible, even to 
some women, for Belle kissed her with enthusiasm. 

Aunt Eveleena sniffed the air and opened wide her 
ears. Leonard, on the other hand, finding Franklin 
was not affected towards Belle, recovered from his 
temporary depression and beamed and beamed, till 
he strained his neck in his attempt to win a smile 
from Belle. 

He had been thus employed for over a quarter of an 
hour, when his mother, perceiving his little antics, 
asked in her most suave tones what he was trying to 
do ; if there was a boil on his neck, he must have it 
seen to. 

On the way back from the Park, Belle asked Violet 
to stop in at her house, an invitation which the latter 
was only too glad to accept for the pleasure of being 
away from her affectionate relatives. The two girls got 
out of the carriage, much to Aunt Eveleena’s dissatis- 
faction, and Belle called out with a touch of spite, “Jack 
will see Violet home, Mrs. Woods, so don’t trouble.” 

Leonard simpered an “au revoir,” and made a men- 
tal note of the number, intending to walk up that way 
occasionally, so as “ to meet hah, if possible, by acci- 
don’ ch’ know?” 

Aunt Eveleena began to hate Belle Harper, and to 
complain of the want of affection displayed by her 
formerly beloved niece, whom she had mentally ap- 
pointed to read the magazine to her that evening. 

When Leonard arrived home his mother dragged 
him into the drawing-room to rate him for his negli- 
gence. 

Why hadn’t he been attentive to Violet? He could 
easily have displayed a respectful preference. In- 
stead of that he had seemingly avoided, her as if ehe 
^’rightened him. 


THE AMERIOAH FAUST. 


147 


“That’s just it, mothah! She does frighten me. 
She’s nice, and all that, hut she gives a fellah so 
deuced little encouragement, ye know, that he feels 
chilled. It requires more determination than I have 
to stand up to hah.” 

“ You’re a fool, Leonard ! ” 

“ I can’t help it, mothah.” 

‘You must summon up courage; don’t you know 
there’s another in the field? ” 

“Yes, and I’m the other side of the fence; I’ve no 
chance.” 

“Why not? He’s in Paris; and she is here, and her 
half million with her. Propose to her quickly.” 

“She’d laugh at me, mothah, and no chappie likes 
to be laughed at, don’ ch’ know? Besides, he saved her 
from the fire.” 

“ Well, you must save her from him. It’s an act 
quite as meritorious, if not so showy.” 

“ She won’t see it that way.” 

“ The man is an adventurer. He wants her money. 
No doubt he enticed her into that fire for the express 
purpose of posing as a heroic deliverer.” 

“Yes, and had hah fathah and mothah burnt to a 
cinder in order to make shuah of Violet getting the 
boodle.” 

“ Slang, Leonard ! ” 

“Yes, mothah; you know it well enough to recog- 
nize it.” 

Aunt Eveleena upon this flounced out of the 
room, angered that her angel-boy, Leonard, had 
somehow got the better of her in the argument. 
Leonard remained soliloquizing for ten minutes after 
his mother’s departure. 

He finally decided to speak to Miss Woods that even- 
ing, as it was not likely any harm could come of it. 

Violet returned about nine o’clock under Jack Har- 
per’s escort. She had refused to accompany Belle to 
a theatre, as Aunt Eveleena might he anxious about 
her. Jack left her at the door, and Violet, bidding him 


148 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“ good-night,” ran lightly into the drawing-room. 
Leonard was there, shuffling a deck of cards for 
amusement. 

‘ ‘ Come in, Vi ! I want to speak to you, don’ch’ 
know? ” said her cousin, dropping the cards upon the 
carpet. 

Violet threw her hat on the table and seated her- 
self. She busied herself taking off her gloves while 
Leonard talked. 

“Violet,” began Leonard, “you ain’t married un- 
beknown to the family, are yah?” 

Violet laughed and said, “That’s a nice question to 
ask ! of course not ! ” 

“ Yes— es,” stammered Leonard; “ I thought I’d like 
to know if I had a brother-m-law, — I mean a cousin- 
in-law-er. The fact is I want to ask you, ye know, 
whether you are anxious to love me as a sister — or as 
a brother — because — I mean a sister is as far as I 
could expect you to go— don’t know if you follow 
me? ” 

“I understand you,” interrupted Violet, “you 
want to know if I will be a sister to you? Certainly, 
with pleasure.” 

“That’s all right I” said Leonard, briskly. “Then 
you don’t want to marry me, and I have done my 
duty to mothah. You have refused me.” 

“ You didn’t propose to me! ” 

“Same thing! You have made me very happy, 
Violet.” 

“ Because I refused you? ” 

“Yes; I don’t love you a bit — in that way. You’re 
a real nice girl, and all that, but not my style ; not 
my form, as they say in England, dorL’ch’know?” 

After this revelation Leonard became very easy 
and talked fluently on various subjects, amongst 
others of Belle Harper. Then the conversation 
turned upon Franklin Elliott, and Violet became elo- 
quent. 

Uncle Peter came in in the middle of their dialogue 


THE AMERiCAK FAUST. 


149 


and broke it off at a most interesting part. Uncle 
Peter was a brusque man, whose principal bliss was 
derived from baiting his own son. 

“Oh! you’re in this evening, are you? you 
clothes pin ! you lay figure 1 What has happened 
that you grace the family hearth with your com- 
pany to-night? ” asked Peter, glaring. 

“Just took the notion into my head, don’ch’know? 
fathah ! ” answered Leonard, unabashed. 

“Your head has taken something sensible into it 
at last, you Anglomaniac I you — ” 

“You’d be as bad as the othah fellahs if you’d ever 
been across and shaken hands with Albert Edward, 
pah' don’ch’know?” 

Violet, meanwhile had withdrawn from their pres- 
ence, and being tired, had sought her room. 

“You’ve driven Violet away, pah, with your loud- 
ness,” continued Leonard. 

“Um!” growled Peter. “Has your mother said 
anything about Violet? ” 

“Yes, Pve proposed to her.” 

“Ah! that accounts for your happiness. Boy, I 
congratulate you.” 

“Thank you, fathah! I’m glad you like it. She 
refused me. ” 

“What?” 

“Refused me! concisely, but formally! It’s all 
right; I’ve got a new sister.” 

“ You brainless emanation of personified idiocy ! ” 

•“ Don’t call yourself bad names, fathah.” 

You—” continued old Peter Woods, growing blind 
with rage — but Leonard was on his way up stairs. 

There was grief in the parental portion of the 
Woods family, that evening. 


CHAPTER XII. 


IN WHICH WE VIEW THE INNER LIFE OP A HAREM. 

Several weeks of the tinsel glories and terrestrial 
glamours of the West had failed, and dismally, in 
their purpose, and Sadler A. Tann’s mental eye now 
roamed towards the gorgeous East. Paris, with all 
its inducements to folly, was a dead letter as regards 
temptation ; but the enervating luxury of the Moslem 
world had thus far been spared a chance of triumph 
and with it the ignominy of defeat. Constantinople, 
resting in squalor and magnificence on the blue 
waters of the Bosphorus, was a potent shaft among 
the few yet remaining in the Satanic quiver. 
The land of mosque and minaret, of El Koran, 
Bismillah, and Rabat Lakoum was still powerful 
for evil ; the atmosphere of hookah, fez, tur- 
ban, odalisque and seraglio, and other Turkish 
eccentricities, possessed an enervating infiuence 
hitherto unessayed. Shades of Mahamoud, Omar, 
and Suleiman the Magnificent, to say nothing of the 
Seven Sleepers of Ephesus ! you little dream that the 
infernal powers regard your beliefs as a royal road 
to Avernus, or any other polite name you like to 
adjust to H . 

We will not trouble to relate the details of the 
journey, nor excite your nerves with blood-curdling 
stories of Montenegrin bandits or Dalmatian pirates. 
Oh, no, truth before everything. Have you ever 
been to Constantinople, dear peruser? No? Well, it 
doesn’t matter. Guide book in hand we will roam its 
shady, sweet-smelling streets together; we will see 
whether what some people tell us agrees with what 


THE AMERIOAH FAUST. 


151 


other people tell us. There are very few travellers 
who are capable of describing the scenes .they have 
visited; then it is, that the guide-book comes in 
handy. 

Constantinople, we are informed by most encyclo- 
paedias, was founded by Constantine the Great ; 
though why he should have gone to all the trouble 
and expense is left to the imagination. There was 
already a city within easy swimming distance, it was 
called Byzantium; but Constantinus looked with 
real-estate eyes across the brook dividing the existing 
city from the non-existing, and saw that it was high, 
situated in the vicinity of pines and free from mala- 
ria and mosquitoes ; that, in short, it possessed all the 
requisites for a land-agent’s circular. Even an 
emperor is not above a little gamble when he sees a 
dead sure thing and knows his own facilities for 
booming the market. So Constantine, disguised as a 
mill-owner, purchased the land at his own price, with 
the avowed intention of building* a meat-packing 
factory. 

Then he returned to Byzantium and started the 
boom. 

The Empress, history informs us, gave out that the 
court was about to move its base of operations to a 
vacant lot on the other side of the strait. This rumor 
caused the hangers-on of imperialism to purchase 
villa sites in the new city, which was accordingly 
laid out as Constantinopolis. 

But Constantine, having an interest in the Bospho- 
rus ferry-boat company, was loth to make the change 
without working the investment for all it was worth; 
thus it was that for nearly three years the officers of 
the household, and the recognized imperial deadheads, 
were compelled to do the journey at least twice a day. 
This brought the B. F. B. Co. shares up to a pre- 
mium and Constantine sold out at a fabulous profit. 
In a month he was installed in Constantinople, and 
the B. F. B. Co. was bankrupt in less than a year. 


152 


THE AMEEICAH FAUST. 


This was the founding of the mignty centre of Ori- 
ental Empire. We might, were this a treatise on the 
Orient, follow the fortunes of this famous city ; but it 
isn’t. 

Constantinople is noted for several things, but 
chiefly for the hankering which Eussia has to pos- 
sess it. 

There is also the Mosque of Omar, a well-known 
Caliph who was on the road about the season of 700 

A. D. 

A word or two on Mohammedanism might not be 
out of place in this chapter and therefore thoroughly 
in keeping with the surroundings. 

Mahomet, Mohammed and several other variations 
on the name, was born possibly in Arabia Felix, but 
the highest authorities hand him over to an obscurer 
locality. After all, the birthplace doesn’t effect a 
man’s chances of being great. 

When in his teens, Mahomet was smitten with a 
thirst for biblical knowledge, and in the pages of 
Scripture satisfied his appetite ; only for a time, alas ! 
Then he began to find fault with the sacred writings, 
and fgmcied he could, with a little inspiration, do a 
great deal better himself. With an occasional hint 
from his friend, the Angel Gabriel, he succeeded in 
weaving a highly-colored romance, which he called 
El Koran; in which was proclaimed with strength 
amounting to conviction that there was only one God 
and Mahomet was his prophet. Now, scoffing critics 
were at first inclined to question the second part of 
the proclamation; they agreed on the one God, but 
failed to see Mahomet’s ergo. It was necessary, there- 
fore, for the young author to carry conviction with 
him wherever he went, so that in a very short 
period, all the survivors in that part of the country 
fell in with his views. Mohammedanism spread with 
the rapidity of an epidemic, and in a few years all 
the lands south of the Mediterranean gave in their 
allegiance to the pugilistic religion. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


153 


The chief and most attractive feature of the belief 
is ad libitum matrimony, or polygamy. A man can 
start housekeeping with only one wife, if his cir- 
cumstances are moderate ; but as his means increase 
so he may increase his matrimonial stock, by gather- 
ing in all the nice girls he knows. With care and 
discrimination, a connoisseur can collect many beau- 
tiful and valuable specimens of womanhood. 

This is the sole advantage Mohammedanism has 
over Christianity, and even that is almost neutralized 
by the ordinance in the El Koran which forbids the 
use of roast pork and wines. 

A harem, we are informed by experienced people, 
is as expensive a luxury as a racing-stud, and we 
might add, far more difficult to manage. 

Sadler A. Tann, as an admirer of wholesale mar- 
riage, thought to tempt Franklin into that form of 
extravagance, by taking him East and setting forth 
to his gaze the luxuriousness and sensual elegance of 
the best establishments. 

His Majesty the Sultan, Abdul el — something, felt 
a certain amount of creditable pride in himself, in 
that he had brought the system to the highest point 
of perfection ; and herein lay his success. He had 
grappled the difficulty of the royal residences in a 
sensible way. Like most monarchs he had a palace 
near the seat of government, a summer palace, a 
winter ditto, and yet another in the hunting country ; 
and conveying the uxorial appendages from one place 
to another was a formidable item in the expense 
column. 

Abdul El with economic yearnings, hit upon this 
expedient, namely, to have a harem in connection 
with each of the royal residences. By this means, 
Mrs. Abdul was spared the worry and fatigue of rail- 
way travelling, and no matter where he went, there 
was always a sweet welcome, and a cup of tea and a 
pair of slippers warming for him on the top of the 
stove. 


154 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


Of Abdul’s numerous wife emporiums, the Constan- 
tinople house was justly deemed the finest; as was 
only to be expected, for matters of state compelled 
the Sultan’s attendance in the capital a greater part 
of the year. 

Unfortunately for sight-seers and searchers after 
curios, the Oriental monarch enclosed his preserves 
with the barbed- wire fence of exclusiveness and for- 
mulae. It was well-nigh impossible to pass the outer 
doors, and a strong cordon of sentries forbade admit- 
tance into the inner sanctuaries. StiU, granted a 
sufficiency of cold-blooded impudence, there is a good 
deal to be done in the way of evading guards. In 
addition to this accomplishment, which Frankhn pos- 
sessed in a marked degree, Sadler A. had in some 
way learned the word of the day, which was “Man- 
sourah.” It was, of course, within the range of his 
powers, to take on invisibility and walk straight 
in unchallenged; but his mortal nature rendered 
him at times forgetful of his immortal accomplish- 
ments. 

Accordingly, about five o’clock in the afternoon the 
two intending intruders left their hotel and strode 
with firm, unhesitating steps in the direction of the 
Seraglio. Space debars us the pleasure of describ- 
ing their route in detail. The word “Mansourah” 
worked like a charm on the first two or three sen- 
tries they encountered, but the further they advanced 
the less potent their password became. The fourth 
guard stopped them, and in spite of Mansourah looked 
into their eyes as if to read their inmost thoughts. 
Finally he waved his hand for them to pass on, but 
the verdict his mind had arrived at was manifestly 
“ not proven.” After this our two friends proceeded 
with caution. Their movements were those usually 
associated with the profession of burglary. 

Happily, the corridors along which their course 
was directed were enveloped in the indistinctness of 
twilight, that bewildering time of day, when it is too 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


155 


dark to distinguish clearly and not dark enough to 
light the lamps. 

The passages wound round and round in every 
direction in giddy tortuosity, as if designed to foil 
interlopers, but Tann’s instinct was never at fault. 
One would have thought that he was accustomed to 
breaking into harems, and yet this was his first. 
Franklin followed close on his heels, with that ab- 
sence of trepidation which was characteristic of him. 
Suddenly a voice rang in their ears and a scimitar 
clanked ominously. “Halt!” in Turkish, ordered 
the voice. *• 

Both deemed it advisable to agree with the sentry 
on that point. Sadler remarked “Mansourah!” in 
his best Oriental accent. 

The sentry threw out his chest with a mighty effort 
and growled, “Istamboul? ” 

This was a poser. The reply was given in an inter- 
rogative tone which demonstrated beyond question, 
that another password was expected of them. 

“ ‘ Mansourah ’ doesn’t go right through the build- 
ing,” said Franklin, with a laugh. 

Sadler repeated, “Mansourah,” and made as if to 
advance, but encountered the point of the scimitar, 
and there was a dead-lock. 

“Mesmerize him,” suggested Franklin. 

Sadler A. winked, passed his hands in front of the 
soldier three or four times, and reversed positions. 

“ Halt 1 ” muttered Tann. 

“ Mansourah! ” replied the sentry. 

“Istamboul? ” queried Tann. 

“ Razadam! ” was the answer. 

“ Anything else?” 

“No!” 

In almost less time than it takes to record the fact, 
the sentry was enacting his proper role and was satis- 
fied with a bold and unflinching “ Bazadam.” 

They passed on, and with the help of the new word 
met with next to no interruption. 


156 


THE AMERtCAH FAUST. 


But turning round the corner of a passage, the sound 
of light laughter from the throats of young and hand- 
some women greeted their ears, and here the gigantic 
form of a Turkish soldier assailed their eyes. 

This latest object and Tann carried on an animated 
conversation for some time, while Franklin amused 
himself by listening to the different and conflicting 
pronunciation of the Turkish idioms. All Sadler’s 
arguments were useless; the sentinel was obdurate. 
Nothing less than a written order, signed in Abdul 
El’s handwriting, could remove his objections to their 
appearance. That was an insurmountable difficulty, 
apparently, a stranger couldn’t very well ask the 
Sultan for permission to pry into his domestic 
arrangements. Franklin, in the act of deliberating 
their next move, lowered his eyes to the pavement 
and accidentally concentrated his gaze on the feet of 
the obstructor— and they ivere feet! No ordinary 
twelve-inch feet ! These pedal extremities spread out 
both breadthwise and lengthwise in unparalleled 
lavishness. The more Franklin looked, the firmer 
grew the conviction that he had seen those feet 
before, had known them intimately, indeed. But it 
was absurd 1 What should bring them into a Seraglio? 
The guard, however, solved the problem unsolicited ; 
for mistaking the nationality of his visitors, he 
grunted under his breath, “Och! have they never 
seen big fait before? ” 

‘‘What!” Franklin almost shouted, “Danny 
O’Rafferty, is that you? ” 

“ Who the divil are ye anyway?” 

“One who knew you, Danny, when you patrolled 
the eighteenth precinct and can never forget you. 
Will you deny you are Mr. Danny O’ Rafferty?” 

“ Sorra one. How’s Brad way lookin ’ ? ” 

“ Splendid ! But how came you here? ” 

“Hush! Coom into the gyard-room and Oi’ll till 
ye.” 

Danny pulled aside a heavy curtain ornamenting 


THE AMEKICAH FAUST. 


157 


the wall and disclosed a small chamber, furnished 
with a few rugs, a low table and a stand for guns; 
heavy Turkish tapestries serving in place of wall 
papers. 

“Be sated,” cried Danny; and his guests laid 
themselves out on the floor in picturesque attitudes. 

“Whin Oi lift the force,” began Danny, “under 
circumstances not favorable to me character, Oi 
became a sailor, and in the coorse of me voyagin ’ Oi 
came to Consthantoinople. One noight when Oi was 
ramblin’ the strates, lookin’ after nothin’ in perticular, 
sounds of foightin’ and cursin’ fit for divils, broke up 
the soilence av the noight. Me first tought was to 
avide the distirbance; but me blood got up at the 
prospect ov a foight, and Oi wint in, head first, and 
shtruck out whiriver there was anything to hit at. 
The crowd wilted away loike the frosht on a window 
when you breathe on it, and a man seized me hand and 
observed, ‘You have saved my loite.’ It was the 
Sultan himself. Loike a woise man, Oi neglected to 
ashk him the whoi of his prisence in that disr ’putable 
quarther, and he tuk me home wid him, and here I 
am, head gyard over the prettiest gerruls in the 
wurrld.” 

Franklin laughed over this brief history, and ex- 
plained their wish to O’Rafferty, who shook his head, 
and said that even he was not allowed in the drawing- 
room or salon, or whatever name they gave to the 
room in which the wives lounged all through the 
day. 

It appeared, however, that the Sultan had certain 
hours when his presence was necessary on state 
matters, and that in this time the gay Sultanas flirted 
to their hearts’ content with the officers of the 
household. 

A great part of the military guard was of necessity 
concerned in the fraud, so that the sentinels on what- 
ever route the Sultan approached, could pass the 
warning along in ample time for the traitorous 


158 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


employees to make good their escape in some other 
direction. 

Danny professed much virtuous indignation at tlie 
breaches of marital confidence he was compelled to 
wink at. 

To inform the Sultan of the outrageous proceedings 
was not to be debated for a moment ; Danny wasn’t 
a sneak. 

A fairy footfall in the corridor! “Hide your- 
selves, me bhoys! ” entreated Danny. 

Tann rushed behind the curtains, and Franklin, 
taking a couple of cushions to disguise his formation, 
rolled himself up in a rug so that he looked like a 
broad bolster. O’Rafferty threw himself at length 
upon the fioor and leaned against this novel support, 
as a lady entered the apartment. 

She was costumed in modern style, which is about 
all a man can say of a dress. Men are capable of 
distinguishing a tailor-made gown from a pair of 
gauze bespangled pantaloons, such as Turkish ladies 
are supposed to disport in, and that’s all. 

But this, though one of the Sultan’s wives, was not 
a Turk in the national sense of the word ; she was a 
Frenchwoman. The Ottoman potentate did not re- 
strict his connubial tastes to one race ; he was utterly 
devoid of patriotism in that respect. 

This wife was of the Sultan’s own choosing. It was 
while Abdul was visiting Paris that his gaze fell upon 
her sylph-like form as displayed to advantage in a dar- 
ing costume representing a Naiad. Adrielle accepted 
the offer he made her, and abandoned the theatre 
in which she exhibited, for the easy luxury and the 
virtuous laxity of the royal harem. But a taste for 
conquest still lingered in her palate ; and whether from 
a desire to test her powers of fascination, or from 
contempt of her liege lord, she set about gaining 
the affections of Daniel O’Rafferty. This was soon 
patent to both the unwilling listeners. Sadler, 
behind the tapestry, was vastly amused at the unre- 


THE AMERIOAK FAUST. 


159 


hearsed farce of which "he was an enforced audi- 
ence. 

“ How is it with my dear Danny? ” asked Adrielle, 
with that low, cooing tone which is deemed so effec- 
tive. 

Danny’s answer was possibly prompted by the 
knowledge of the unseen presences. 

“ It’s a great deal betther with Danny now, than it 
will be if Abdul gets wind of yer flirting wid me.” 

Here the impromptu sofa shook and Mr. O’Eafferty 
had some difficulty in maintaining his balance. 

Adrielle, poor, unrequited darling ! was not to be 
crushed by any Hibernian curtness. She sat herself 
down by Daniel’s side and on Franklin’s knees. Her 
weight was very painful to the bearer of ifc, but he 
did not dare move. 

Sadler was in hilarious convulsions behind the 
curtain. 

Mr. O’Rafferty, too, with that sense of humor which 
is never lacking in an Irishman, had great difficulty in 
suppressing his laughter. Oh, if Adrielle would but 
say anything with a suspicion of wit in it, that he 
might laugh and relieve his lungs I Useless wish! 
French wit to the English speaker is an unknown 
quantity. 

The affectionate Parisian did not remain long; 
Danny’s term of duty was nearly up, and a new 
sentinel, for whom she had no regard, was to relieve 
him. With a sweet kiss on his expansive upper lip, 
she tripped lightly out of the room, singing a merry 
chansonette as she went. When the voice had died 
away Franklin unrolled himself from the rugs and 
cushions, gasping and panting the while. 

“Devil of a weight, the two of you,” he laughed, 
rubbing his knee caps. 

“Och! it’s nothing. Oi was bearing light on yez; 
myself alone weighs as much as the two of us 
did.” 

This apparent paradox was allowed to pass un- 


100 


THE AMEEICAH FAUST. 


noticed, for Sadler launched out boldly into the ob- 
ject of their visit. 

My young friend here is writing a book on Ori- 
entals and the Orient, and of course is compelled to 
devote a comprehensive section to your harjems and 
their modus operandi. Now, if you have ever read 
any works on the subject, you may possibly suspect 
that the authors have relied on a fervid imagination, 
and on descriptive power more than on truth ; but he 
loves truth, so do I — in the abstract — therefore he 
wishes to study harems on the spot and from life. 
How is he to do it? ” 

Danny scratched his head till an idea came, and the 
result was that Franklin sacrificed his fair mustache 
and decked himself in the regimentals of a Sultana, 
and Sadler A. blacked up in the character of a deaf- 
mute. 

Mr. O’Eafferty, presumably aided by the fair Adri- 
elle, secured the garments, and when the metamor- 
phosis was completed, he surveyed his handiwork with 
no little satisfaction. 

“You’re the prettiest gerrul in the houl collection, 
Mr. Elliott, devil take me if you’re not.” 

Sadler smiled. 

“And you, sorr,” turning to Tann, “are the 
ugliest blackguard in the building. There’s not a 
nigger in the place isn’t an Adonis kimpared wid 
yez.” 

Franklin certainly did make a very presentable 
kind of girl ; his hair was just long enough to accord 
with the prevailing style, and the fairness of his beard 
rendered his face when shaven, as smooth-looking as 
the daintiest maiden’s. 

He wore a beautiful pair of gauze pantaloons, with 
silver butterflies sprinkled at random in the pattern ; 
a white silk petticoat with gold bordering over the 
continuations, and a short, navy-blue jacket embroi- 
dered with silver, over an electric blue silk vest; 
and to crown all, a rakish-looking Greek-pirate kind 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. , 161 ’ 

of cap, also in navy blue, with a large silver tassel, 
which dangled coquettishly over his neck. 

“ I wonder if Abdul will get mashed on me,” sighed 
Franklin, with brusque dejection. 

“ Shmall blame to ’um if he does,” remarked Daniel. 

“Beastly inconvenient,” added Tann. “He might 
single him out, and it’s odds on our being discovered, 
thrown into prison, bastinadoed and drowned in the 
Golden Horn. As far as I’m concerned, I’d just as 
soon be drowned as not.” 

“ Whisht! ” exclaimed Danny, “it’s time for me 
relafe to come. Make a bolt for it into the saloon.” 

The two interlopers, obeying orders, pattered down 
the corridor and drawing aside the curtains at the end, 
found themselves in a large apartment, fitted up with 
all modern improvements and with every luxury in 
the way of upholstery ; and rendered radiant by the 
presence of beauty of every type. 

Their entrance was unnoticed by even so much as a 
turn of the head. That was satisfactory. Elliott 
threw himself onto an ottoman that suited his— her 
dress, and Tann betook himself to a distance, to join a 
group of other deaf-mutes, who were in animated con- 
versation. Franklin picked up a yellow covered 
French novel which was on the ottoman and com- 
menced to read. He had not got beyond the title 
and the name of the author when he was addressed 
by a dark-eyed girl. He at first mistook her for 
Danny’s admirer, as she spoke in Parisian French. 
Abdul clearly had no prejudice against the French. 

“What is your name?” asked the dark-eyed 
beauty. 

“ Aimee,” answered Franklin, in his best Parisian. 

“New?” 

“Yes.” 

“ You are Abdul’s birthday present then.” 

Franklin, that is Aimee, expressed some surprise, 
seeing which, the little one explained. It appeared 
that the Sultan’s n^other never failed to make her son 


162 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


a present of a wife every anniversary of his birthday, 
and of course she got the nicest young woman there 
was to be had. Yesterday had been the happy day 
of Abdul El’s nativity. 

This unintentional compliment actually made Frank- 
lin blush, which so amused Nina that she kissed the 
young bride, and said, 

“ Blush, my dear, while you can; you will soon lose 
the power here.” 

This remark rather alarmed Franklin, as indeed it 
would any young man with a residuum of modesty. 
He timidly asked when Abdul might be expected. 

‘ Oh,” was the laughing reply, “the old fool 
wouldn’t come here this evening ; there is a most im- 
portant council on about Russian affairs, and he will 
be detained— and good riddance too,” with an expres- 
sive shrug. 

Further questions revealed that the officers of the 
household were expected to attend a little conversa- 
zione, which, unknown to the Sultan, they were giving. 

Aimee-Franklin, as a new-made bride, was just a 
trifle shocked ; he thought nobody was allowed to see 
the faces of the Sultan’s wives. 

“That is right,” exclaimed Nina. “But Abdul, the 
old idiot, does not know and is not likely to find out. 
He always comes one way from the council cham- 
bers, and all the soldiers are with us to give warn- 
ing of his approach, and hey, presto ! all the officers 
disappear the other way,” 

Franklin suggested that Abdul might come the 
other way, but Nina laughed heartily ; it was so im- 
probable, 

Soon the guests began to arrive and Franklin found 
himself besieged by admirers seeking one smile from 
his ruby lips and one glance from his liquid orbs. 
What a difference the sex makes!- These were ex- 
actly the same lips and orbs he had rejoiced in as a 
man, and yet nobody had accused them of being ruby 
or liquid ; now he was a woman, the truth was coming 








THE AMERICAN EAUST. 


1G3 


out. The entertainment opened with an operatic 
duet between a soprano and a contralto sultana; it 
Avas heartily applauded, especially by Franklin. 
Many ballads and selections on the grand piano fol- 
lowed ; and then Adrielle, attired for the occasion in a 
fac-simile of the dress, which by its paucity of mate' 
rial had won the Sultan’s heart, danced a kind of a 
Nautch dance on the tessellated pavement. The 
officers cheered it with extravagant enthusiasm, while 
the ladies, annoyed at the undoubted triumph, 
scowled, and voted Adrielle the palm for brazenness. 

Franklin, being new, was the centre of a group of 
admirers. In order to shake off their unwelcome at- 
tentions, he walked up to the piano and seating him- 
self before the instrument vamped a selection of 
ditties culled from the variety halls, and finally sang, 
“ We’ve both been there before, many a time,” which 
performance created quite a sensation. He was about 
to complete their incipient paralysis, by an American 
song and dance, when Daniel O’Rafferty walked into 
the room and beckoned him. Tann had seen Danny 
enter and was at his side in a moment. With an 
ominous wink O’Rafferty withdrew, Tann following. 
Elliott remained behind for a few seconds, so as to 
dispel the idea of connection between the three, and 
then joined his companions in the corridor. 

“It’s all oop!” whispered Danny. “The Sultan’s 
on to ’em. He’s marchin’ up from the side o’ the 
palace and the building is surrounded by gyards. The 
three of us may escape if we’re lively. Come on.” 

Not waiting for further explanation, they followed 
Danny’s lead and groped their way down a passage in 
Avhich the lamps had not been lighted. In and out, 
right and left they turned, listening every now and 
then, as the tramp of many feet drew near. 

“They’re in a parallil corridure to this,” muttered 
Danny, “and we have to chross it. Divil help us if 
they take this turning.” 

The three were at the head of a cross passage. The 


164 


THE AMERICAN- FAUST. 


sound stopped. There was apparently some delibera- 
tion on the course to be pursued. The stealthy tread 
resumed and it was evident the soldiers were coming 
their way. It was no use turning back ; in all prob- 
ability the party had been divided into two, so as to 
command both exits from the central salon. 

‘ ‘ In here, quick ! ” gasped Danny. There was a 
kind of niche in the wall, or more properly an em- 
brasure, in which stood a growth of tropical ferns, 
nourished from a jet of water, which splashed and 
gurgled from a bank of moss. Behind this the three 
friends lay, one on top of another, for the lower 
growth was thick and there was greater safety in 
laying flat than in crouching. A skylight above 
showed the moon shining serenely in the heaven. 
The noise of feet advanced and in a short time, 
apparently an age to the hiders, the troop was 
passing their place of concealment. Last of all was 
Abdul himself, conveniently situated to make his 
Dntrance when the traitors were overpowered. The 
steps went on and died away. With a sigh of relief, 
the three rose from their retreat and fled in the op- 
posite direction. With such speed did they move 
that they ran incautiously into the main corridor 
and were seen by a detachment of twenty or more 
men. Back they turned, with about thirty yards 
start of their pursuers. Never did men sprint 
with more determination. Franklin was first in 
the ferny hiding-place, O’Rafferty a close second, 
but Tann slipped and fell headlong on the glassy tiles. 
This disaster did away with even the remotest chance 
of escape. Tann was seized and gagged before he 
could regain his feet. There was a slight delay ; the 
other two began to hope. But too soon ; for one of the 
Bashi-Bazouks (or whatever they are called in Turk- 
ish) prodded a bayonet into the calf of Daniel’s leg 
and raised a yell, more of surprise than of pain, from 
the prostrate Irishman, Danny wrenched the gun 
from the assailant’s grasp and started in to demolish 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


165 


the twenty or more who stood between him and 
liberty. Franklin joined him and for several min- 
utes a free fight reigned in the darkness of the pas- 
sages. 

The lanterns carried by the soldiery had been upset, 
and with luck on their side, safety again seemed 
likely. But in the blackness it was difiicult to tell 
friend or foe. Franklin found himself battling with 
a Turk of massive proportions, who was gradually 
overcoming him. Elliott’s athletic training enabled 
him to struggle longer than the comparative differ- 
ence in the weights warranted. Fortune inclined to 
him, however ; for just as he thought to give up and 
submit to strangulation, he felt the wall with his 
heels, and using it for a fulcrum, he pushed with all 
his force against his gigantic adversary who, at the 
same time getting his legs entangled in a prostrate 
body, fell with violence on to the fioor, Franklin on 
top. At the moment the lanterns were relighted, and 
the disheartening truth broke in upon them that they 
had been fighting each other ! 

‘ ‘ Fate’s ag’in us, ” said Danny. “We surrender.” 

A quite unnecessary concession, for they were 
bound and gagged, without being consulted on the 
subject. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


IN WHICH SADLER TRIES TO OUTDO SCHEHERAZADE, AND 
FINDS IT NECESSARY TO WORK A MIRACLE, 

It was about half-past eight when the disastrous 
conclusion of the last chapter came to pass. By nine 
o’clock the three were securely immured in a damp, 
slimy cell and left to their own reflections ; and as they 
were much upon the same theme, there would have 
been very little relief in being left to each other’s. 
O’Rafferty bewailed his 'hard lot in having years be- 
fore been discovered transacting business in a state of 
liquor — it wasn’t the liquor that troubled his con- 
science, it was the discovery. But for that one 
known act of intemperance he might have been parad- 
ing the sidewalks of Broadway, instead of smouldering 
in an unhealthy, ill-drained dungeon. Franklin’s 
thoughts were more business-like; he w^as studying 
the apartment. There was a well-deflned line on the 
one wall, beneath which it was damp and slimy; 
above this line the wall was dry. This clearly pro- 
claimed the presence of water outside. A small 
window near the ceiling, eight or more feet from the 
ground, let in a shaft of cold, pale moonlight. 

“Give me a back,” said Franklin to Danny, “and 
I’ll explore our surroundings.” 

Daniel did as desired, and standing on his broad 
shoulders, Elliott gazed through the bars of the 
window on a scene of transcendent loveliness. At his 
feet, or in the neighborhood of them, flowed the 
waters of the Golden Horn in a dark-blue tide, relieved 
by a calm silver streak, glittering and swaying with 
the waves. Following this shining track, the glance 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


167 


reached the opposite shore and lingering little on the 
deep shadows of the smaller buildings, rested upon 
the rounded domes of the mosques and the tall min- 
arets as they caught the lavish rays of the moon. 

“ It’s a lovely night,” said Franklin. “ If I had my 
choice of deaths and of nights to try my choice on, I 
would select drowning on such a serene evening as 
this.” 

Danny shuddered. 

“ It would almost be a pleasure to sink into ob- 
livion in such a placid stream as this ; fitting emblem 
of the future life.” 

“ Hould on ! If yez talk like that I’ll let yez fall.” 

. Tann laughed derisively. He had hitherto been 
busily engaged in making a meal off his finger-nails. 

“ It seems to me a fitting occasion on which to dis- 
cuss problems of vital interest and future speculation. 
Do you believe there’s a hell? ” asked Sadler, addres- 
sing himself to Daniel. 

“Oh! whoy trouble me wid such questions? Sure 
Oi’ll be afther foinding out in an hour or so. ’’ 

“You think they mean to kill us, then?” said 
Franklin. 

“ Think 1 ” echoed Danny, “ we’re as good as dead.” 

“The only thing that annoys me about it,” contin- 
ued Elliott, “ is that I haven’t really learned anything 
about harems.” 

“You’ll have to shorten that section of the book,” 
interposed Tann. “ Indulge in vague generalities.” 

“Considerin’ the nearness o’ dith, ye’re both of yez 
takin’ things aisy.” 

“ Yes; we’re like Socrates in that respect,” said 
Elliott. 

“Socrates! ” mused Tann, “ I remember him well; 
he’s an overrated man.” 

“ In what way? ” questioned Elliott. 

“ He was one of those beings who get a reputation 
for wisdom through looking solemn and saying noth- 
ing. Others ascribed opinions to him he was too 


168 


THE AMERICAN FAUrT. 


lazy to disown, and that’s how his school of philosophy 
was founded. Socrates! Pah! his wife was the 
better man of the two.” 

“ This science isdisharrtnin’,” said Danny, at length; 
“ Oi’ll go mad av I hear any more av it. Won’t yez 
spaken and say something that’ll let me forget me 
drowin’? ” 

“ All right! let us escape,” proposed Franklin. 

“ How? ” asked Danny. 

“By breaking one of those iron bars, getting out 
through the window and swimming the inlet.” 

Danny looked up at the bars. As before explained 
the hole in the wall which served for light and venti- 
lation was about eight feet above the level of the floor. 
It would be necessary for whoever took the playful 
task of breaking the bars, to fit himself into the 
opening. The wall, it must be mentioned, was nearly 
four feet thick, and the bars were at the outer end of 
the embrasure. The difficulty of the undertaking con- 
sisted in getting a good foothold from which the 
strength of the whole body could be utilized. Danny 
O’Rafferty was a man not to be daunted by technical 
difficulties. Franklin braced himself up against the 
wall and the giant ex-policeman clambered up on his 
shoulders, and thence, by means of one of the bars, 
pulled himself into the opening. 

The incline of the embrasure rendered his position 
difficult, but Danny turned himself round, and with 
his broad back up against one side and his feet hard 
pressed on the other, commenced operations. He 
tugged the middle bar gently at first, to see if there 
was a weak spot, then pulled more vigorously, then 
swore and pulled again, and kicked and tugged till the 
perspiration rolled down his upturned nose, but in vain. 
Then he worried at it in sharp, vicious jerks in an 
endeavor to loosen it from the socket ; but Anally he 
was compelled to lay back and pant for breath. 

“Have yez a penknife?” said Danny, thinking to 
attempt loosening the setting. 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


169 


Sadler A. Tanii smiled sardonically, and with a wink 
which was wasted in the dark, inquired, “Why not 
ask for a file while you’re about it? ” 

“I ask for joost what I expect to get,” retorted 
O’Rafferty, nettled at Tann’s unsympathetic ex- 
pression. 

“If you knew me better you’d expect almost any- 
thing of me.” 

“ Faix, it ud have to be somethin’ devilish bad from 
yez that would surprise me now.” 

“ Here’s a rat-tail file,” said Tann, taking one out of 
the air. 

Danny was astounded ; he was not aware that the 
gentleman he had the honor of being imprisoned with 
was a conjurer. He took the instrument, however, 
and commenced work on the obstinate bar, while 
Elliott and Tann conversed in a low whisper, as far 
from him as the size of the cell permitted. 

Danny persevered with sundry grunts and noises, in- 
dications of effort ; occasionally stopping as he fancied 
he detected the tread of a sentry, or the noise of a 
boat being rowed outside on the quiet waters. 

He was deceived as to his progress several times, 
for he stopped filing to expand his energies on attempt- 
ing to break the bar; but at length his mighty 
strength was crowned with success. Even then the 
two pieces had to be worked out of the sockets. 
Danny, however, was equal to the occasion, and he 
completed his work in a little over three minutes. 

“Hooroo, me bhoyc!”he cried, “there loies our 
liberty 1 ” 

Nothing but a swim of a mile, or less, now stood be- 
tween them and freedom. Danny took his boots off ; 
also his coat and vest, which articles of clothing would 
of necessity interfere with easy natation, and was 
about to lower himself through the window, when the 
door was abruptly opened and a posse of Mussulmen 
crowded into the cell. Franklin and Sadler were 
seized for the second time with as much roughness as 


THE AMERICAK EAUST, 


m 

if they had resisted capture. Danny, seeing them in 
statu quo, only more so, descended from his perch and 
gave himself up. They were rudely dragged out of 
their dungeon and assisted upstairs with the points 
of bayonets and the flats of scimitars. Delicate atten- 
tions such as these admonished them not to linger by 
the way. Flight after flight of stairs they ascended, 
and Anally wound round and round in one endless 
spiral. A slight delay was caused by Danny’s falling, 
and by reason of his enormous weight, upsetting all 
who were behind, so that they never stopped the un- 
expected descent till they were heaped up in pictur- 
esque confusion at the bottom of the spiral staircase. 

Each man having sorted his arms and legs from the 
tangle of other limbs, the party proceeded cautiously, 
preventing the repetition of the mishap by interpos- 
ing the business ends of the bayonets between them- 
selves and Danny. 

Arrived at the top of the winding stairs, the advance 
threw open a low door and the main-body bundled the 
three prisoners out upon a high terrace, the flat roof 
of a tower some one hundred and fifty feet above the 
level of the strait. A low parapet ran round on all 
four sides. Despite the lateness of the hour, the place 
was evidently prepared for the holding of a myste- 
rious tribunal. Three solemn looking figures sat 
with their backs to the west, with a guard of soldiers 
behind them ; in front of them was a table, upon which 
were some coarse sacks and several pliant-looking 
rods. 

As the prisoners reeled into the centre of this queer 
enclosure, their late escort formed around them, so 
that they were encompassed on every side. 

Danny sighed for a scythe. How he could have 
mowed them down ! — Or an axe ; he could have cleared 
the roof of all but themselves in thirty seconds. 

It was a romantic scene. The Vehm, in Anne of 
Geierstein, the Carbonari and other secret societies 
invariably met in cellars draped in black velvet and 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 171 

general trappings of solemnity ; but this council met 
in mid-air, and although the prisoners failed to see 
the object, object there was. 

The central figure of the judicial party unrolled a 
silk muffler from his delicate throat and motioned for 
the ceremony to begin. 

“That’s the ould thief, Abdul himself,” whispered 
Danny. 

The turbaned gentleman on the Sultan’s right, stood 
up and commenced an address in Turkish, which 
Franklin alone did not understand. 

“The offence with which you are charged is more 
heinous than insulting the sacred shrine of Mecca, or 
doubting that Mohammed’s coffln is suspended be- 
twixt heaven and earth ! ” . 

Sadler laughed derisively ; the speaker scowled. 

“To break into a man’s domestic circle, whatever 
its radius [here Abdul frowned and the soldiers 
grinned, while the orator went on, unconscious] ; to 
trample upon the tenderest love of a man, that 
noble sentiment which he displays towards the sharers 
of his sorrows and joys, is the net of a dog of a Frank. 
To come between man and wives is infamy worthy 
of that arch-devil, Eblis.” 

“When you begin on devils, you don’t know what 
you’re talking about,” interrupted S. A. “Eblis! 
Pah 1 he’s a miserable understrapper ! ” 

One of the soldiers punctuated Tann with a bay- 
onet. and he came to a full stop. 

“Therefore, as you were taken red-handed, or in 
flagrante delicto, which I believe is the legal term, we 
have nothing to do but set the machinery of torture 
in operation.” 

Abdul El pulled the orator’s sleeve and whispered 
something in his ear. The Vizier, for he it was who 
was indicting them, added that it was his Majesty’s 
will that they should be allowed to explain their 
extenuating circumstances, if they had any ; although 
for his part the costumes they were even at that 


m 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


moment wearing, gave the lie to any plea they might 
make. 

This looked unfavorable, to say the least, but Tann 
was not daunted. He stood out, and to Danny’s 
astonishment, said, 

“We have no extenuating circumstances, but I’d 
like to tell you a story.” 

He said this as much from accident as from any 
other cause, although in the “Arabian Nights,” a 
sentence of death is always a good excuse for ringing 
in a tale of some kind. 

Abdul bowed his head with noble resignation. The 
Vizier blew his nose, and the guards shuffled from one 
foot to another, in the endeavor to get into a good 
listening attitude. Sadler gave Franklin a look of 
suppressed mirth, cleared his bronchial tubes with 
some vehemence and commenced in a loud voice. 

“ Many years before Haroun al Raschid had any 
idea of being born, there lived in Bagdad and other 
places, according to inclination, a king who had one 
son and several others to keep him from feeling 
lonesome. One hot afternoon, after eating a big dish 
of strawberries and cream, while the children looked 
on and wished they were standing in on it, he fell into 
a profound sleep under a plantain tree which had been 
growing, by permission of his Majesty, in the 
royal gardens, for many years past. While in this 
soporific trance, a Peri of beauty, seldom seen in these 
days, except on artistic advertisements of a popular 
soap, appeared to him, and with the familiarity of an 
equal in rank, said, ‘Guzgul’ (that was his name), 

‘ eight years from now, and in every succeeding year 
for ten years thereafter, your favorite son will be in 
great peril. In one way only can you avert his fate 
and save him from the dangers that threaten him. 
Three perils will assail his existence each year, and 
for antidote three mercies must you grant, three 
culprits you must always pardon. If a malefactor 
has committed three crimes, he must be forgiven all. 


THE AMERICAIT FAUST. 


173 


Bow always and bite the dust before the mystic three, 
and the prophet will prosper you.’ Whereat it came 
to pass that three criminals in company were always 
acquitted, and woe to the Caliph, woe to the Sultan 
who should condemn three prisoners, three times 
three — ” 

“ Bishmillah ! ” interrupted the enraged Sultan ; and 
waving his right hand, six sturdy soldiers bore down 
upon the dauntless three. Sadler and Franklin sub- 
mitted without a struggle, but O’Rafferty threw both 
his assailants over his shoulder; in fact, if their fel- 
lows had not interposed with their bodies, it is proba- 
ble that their remains would have been unrecogniza- 
ble one hundred and fifty feet below. A dozen pair 
of arms finally encompassed Danny’s downfall. The 
three were bound hand and foot, and laid on the long 
table previously referred to. The rods were next 
tested ; and, one torturer to each man, bared his right 
arm for the joyful work. 

“Danny,” said Abdul El, with a break of grief in 
his voice, “ I would have had thee other than a trai- 
tor.” 

Daniel was unmoved by the pathos of this remark ; 
for he peremptorily commanded his Highness to go 
to some other place than Constantinople. 

Franklin, in English, told Sadler to see he suffered 
no inconvenience, and settled himself as comfortably 
as one can on a plank, with no pillow to regulate the 
circulation of blood to the head. The executioners 
next removed the prisoners’ slippers, exposing the 
soles of their feet to the moonlight. 

There was a half minute’s pause, while the brutes 
swished the air, and Abdul said, “ Go,” in Turkish. 

Whiz ! Swish ! The rods cut the air together, and 
fell simultaneously brought upon the unprotected 
soles. Whiz! swish! swish! 

Never Redskin endured the assaults of an enemy 
with greater composure ! Blow after blow fell on the 
tender feet, yet not even a sigh escaped the sufferers’ 


iU 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


lips. Like strokes of the flail the rods descended 
till the arms of the myrmidons fell to their sides 
exhausted. 

Abdul gave his men every encouragement ; cheered 
them on with promise of reward for every groan; but 
all in vain. He was worked up to such a frenzy by 
their ill success that he stripped off his outer gar- 
ment and seizing a rod went at the bastinado him- 
self. The Vizier, fired to emulation, did likewise, 
and the twain put forth every pound of kinetic 
energy they possessed ; between each stroke a vicious 
grunt and a deep breath showed their concentration 
of energy for the succeeding. But they too gave up 
the endeavor. The victims were still motionless and 
mute in spite of the torture. 

There the three lay like corpses, ghastly and weird 
in the pale radiance of night. 

“They are dead! ” whispered the Vizier. 

“The fright has killed them,” agreed Abdul, 
“ even as the first stroke was given.” 

Here a hearty rumbling snore, starting low and 
deep, growing in force like the roll of thunder, 
and ending in a mighty crash, reverberated through 
the stratum of air. Abdul gave way to language 
in his native tongue at which the very stars ceased 
twinkling and a dusky cloud spread itself like a black 
veil before the face of the moon. 

“Bah!” he vociferated at last, “by the beard of 
Ibrahim, and by the donkey which carried the pro- 
phet, their feet may be too hard to tickle, but they 
cannot escape death. Give them the sack ! ” 

Danny took upon himself a cold sweat ; in no other 
way did he reveal his dread of the fate in store, 
unless biting his assailants and wriggling when they 
tried to bag him, can be counted as a sign of dread. 
The others with commendable politeness assisted 
their adversaries in every way ; in less than five min- 
utes they were snugly ensconced in theii* sacks and 
the mgutlis of the sacks tied up. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


175 


Danny was now busily engaged in saying his pray- 
ers. They felt themselves seized by the middle and 
balanced for a brief second On the edge of the battle- 
ments, and then— out into the vacancy of space, down, 
down, into the darkness ! 

Abdul leaned over the parapet to watch his victims 
and hear the splash as they reached the water ; every 
neck was craned, every eyeball strained to distin- 
guish their descent. 

The moon came out from behind a cloud, silvering 
the river and the roofs, flooding the fathomless blue 
with glory ! A burst of laughter from above ! Every 
head was upturned at once. Fifty feet away, over 
the Golden Horn, was a monster balloon of flaming 
red ! Three persons were seated in the car, holding out 
a banner on which the legend was plainly inscribed, 
“Good-Bye.” The' clouds passed over the moon and 
all was dark again, while Abdul and his suite lay 
with their faces to the earth. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


IN WHICH SADLER A. TANN SEES LONDON LIFE, AND MOR- 
ALIZES THEREON. 

The balloon in which we last saw Franklin and 
his companions, floated down the sea of Marmora, 
across the ^gean and Thessaly, too high up to notice 
historical spots; and making for Brindisi, sped over 
the waters of the Lower Adriatic at the rate of forty 
miles an hour. There are many who would like to 
learn the manner in which the aereal ship was guided 
with such accuracy ; we cannot enlighten them. Tann 
was, so he said, not at liberty to disclose the secrets 
of nature. 

At Brindisi they caught the overland mail, and in 
thirty-six hours were waiting on the Calais pier for 
the departure of the steamer for Dover. 

Danny was now a difficulty. Sadler objected to 
giving him the beneflt of his infernal attendance ; so 
there was nothing for it but to pay his passage to 
New York and give him sufficient capital to open a 
saloon. To this plan Tann was agreeable. 

At Dover they despatched the policeman, per coast 
line to Southampton, where he could join the Nor- 
deutscher Lloyd. He preferred that route because 
it gave him an opportunity to air his German 
dialect. 

Leaving Danny to the discomforts of his ocean voy- 
age, we will endeavor to catch up with Franklin 
Elliott and his Satanic companion ; or, if you prefer it, 
dear reader, follow leisurely ; as we know positively 
we shall And them, comfortably located at the Grand 
Hotel, Charing Cross, in a cosy suite of apartnionts, 


THE AMERICAN EAUST. 


177 


with a luxurious drawing-room, at the corner of 
Northumberland Avenue, where from one of the win- 
dows Tann is gazing over the broad area of Trafalgar 
Square at the fountains in full play, the cold gray 
tower of the National Gallery, the Nelson Column 
and the Landseer Lions, and quietly admitting there 
is nothing like that where he came from. 

“This great world of London interests me wonder- 
fully,” said Sadler, reflectively, the remark being of a 
soliloquial nature: “yes, I’ve watched the growth of 
it from the very first with more interest than I have 
given to almost any other city, except maybe it was 
Babylon in the far past.” 

You knew Babylon? ” interrupted Franklin, whose 
ears this soliloquy had regaled. 

“ Intimately, ” answered Tann. “ It was a place, if 
you like ; but not a marker to this. I remember in 
the Eozoic period this site was part of a vast marsh, 
many miles in extent.” 

“You don’t tell me! ” remarked Franklin. 

“That was in the Eozoic formation. Then, the 
North Sea was all land and the Channel did not ex- 
ist. Pah ! you moderns think you know a precious 
lot about geology; you don’t know anything. You 
string long words together, fill your heads full of ’em 
and fancy you’re great philosophers. Now I’ve seen 
the whole business through from the commencement, 
and I know a little about it. To all intents and pur- 
poses the world’s the same figuratively as it was at 
the beginning. I don’t mean to say bits of land 
haven’t been chipped off, or lakes been filled up by 
sands and land-slips, but the continents have stood 
pretty much as they now are, from the first.” 

“ Oh, and how long is it since the first? ” 

“Exactly one million, three hundred and forty 
thousand, six hundred and eighty-four years.” 

“ How about the world being made in six days? ” 
“Franklin, you’re talking rubbish! how could 
there be such a thing as a day without the sun? You’ll 


178 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


know more about geology after your demise than 
you’re ever likely to before.” 

“ Same with other sciences,” agreed Franklin. 

“Yes! Talking about London, the times I used 
to have when the Druids had the place all to them- 
selves ! London then consisted of about six hundred 
huts of wattle.” 

“ Which’ll? ” asked Franklin. 

“Wattle, wattle, wicker-work! Then came the 
Romans. They were Tartars.” 

“ The Romans Tartars?” 

‘ ‘ That’s an anachronistic figure of speech ; but you 
understand me, they were the first to really start 
London. Julius Caesar — no, it was Suetonius! — no, 
Agricola, built a camp on the site of the present 
Tower. Bless you, it’s like old times to me to be here 
again.” 

“ What sort of a woman was Boadicea? ” 

“ Well, it’s hardly fair of me to judge her. I made 
her acquaintance under most unfavorable circum- 
stances. She had only just left the Roman rods and 
the Ancient British she indulged in was of the choic- 
est.” 

“And Hengist and Horsa, what were they like?” 

“ They were Saxon sluggers. Too much given to 
talk, for my taste. I never left Hengist once for 
three days. I was working him up to massacre the 
males of a certain hamlet. It took a good deal of 
persuasion to fix his mind ; but once he started on a 
thing, he did it well. He not only slaughtered all 
the men, he killed all the women and children; five 
thousand in all, one morning between breakfast and 
lunch.” 

“Five thousand! that’s one solution to the labor 
question.” 

“Horsa was a bad-hearted man; he had no tender 
moments like Hengist. Did you ever hear what set 
them against each other? ” 

“No, I never knew they were unfriendly.” 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


179 


“Yes; they both got sweet on Kowena, who, be- 
tween ourselves, wasn’t half so beautiful as history 
tries to make out.” 

“ Like many modern professional beauties! ” 

“She was red-headed, and Horsa, whose proper 
tribe name was White Horse — just as Indians call 
themselves Squatting Toad and Spotted Dog nowa- 
days — was her shadow. He was always fooling 
around, until the Britons grew into the habit of look- 
ing out for the White Horse whenever the red-headed 
girl was about. ” 

“Well, now,” said Franklin, “ how few people know 
the antiquity of that red-headed superstition.” 

“Guess not,” Tann replied, not knowing to what 
Franklin was alluding. “Will you take a drink 
before dressing?” 

“ No, thanks, Tann.” 

“ I will see you later.” Tann walked leisurely from 
the room into the corridor, and then quite hurriedly 
down the one flight of stairs to the office. He was 
anxious to repair what might have proved a serious 
business error, and quite excitedly inquired for letters 
for Mr. Franklin Elliott. There were several. Sadler 
A. took them from the clerk and looked them over ; 
the first two did not interest him, but the third, which 
was addressed in a lady’s hand, did. He carefully 
put it in his pocket, and finding a quiet corner in the 
smoking room, tore open the envelope and proceeded 
to read it. He smiled derisively as he read, and on 
finishing his perusal, tore the letter up and threw the 
scraps of paper into the cuspidor near him. 

“Very pretty reading,” he thought; “very modest 
and yet encouraging.” Another such and his young 
friend would be back in America in two weeks, and a 
Benedict in about two months. It was not his 
plan to allow things to drift into that channel 
while he could prevent it. From this on Tann 
took to early rising, and his anxiety for the arrival of 
the m9,ils was something to witness. So Franklin 


180 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


never received Miss Woods’ letters. For a like reason 
none of the Harper missives ever reached him; and 
Tann, who had a way of rifling the post-boxes, man- 
aged thai Franklin s letters should never reach them, 
breaking up a correspondence he considered danger- 
ous to his interest. In the meanwhile Sadler A. Tann 
had not all the discrimination to himself. Franklin, 
inquiring for an attendant, despatched a cable to Jack 
Harper — on information pumped out or Sadler — to 
buy New Eggstran stock, and sell the same that day 
week, a deal that brought Franklin a profit of $2750. 

+ * * * 

About eight o’clock one evening, Sadler and 
Franklin, attired in the recognized evening cos- 
tume, stepped out from their hotel into the Strand. 
There was a cool breeze blowing up from the river. 
Night was coming on rafiidly, for the summer was 
dying fast and the days were shortening. A few 
cold, inhospitable electric lights flickered with sickly 
perseverance against what feeble brilliance the 
sunken sun still gave. The shops, protesting against 
the uncongenial twilight, were illumined by count- 
less gas jets, warm and cheerful by contrast with the 
steely blue of the electric light, which diffused its 
radiance far on every side, on cabs, omnibuses and 
carriages. 

The Londoners were making for their varied places' 
of amusement. A hurrying couple here, the lady 
with a woolen shawl hung lightly over her arm, the 
gentleman rapidly puffing the virtue out of his 
pipe, showed by the unpretentiousness of their attire 
that they were of the middle-class and bound for the 
pit. 

Broughams, with their lamps shining like blazing 
eyes on either side, whirled by with their precious 
freights of laces and silks, -occupied by the fairest of 
England’s fair, leaning well back into the comfortable 
seclusion of the cushions. Occasionallj^, tempted by 
the delicious temperature of the evening, well-dressed 


The americak rAust. 


181 


couples would leave their hotels along the Strand and 
walk to the theatres they had decided to patronize. 
Snow-white shirt fronts, half hidden by the accidental 
folds of light overcoats, and lace-mantillas, fichus or 
whatever the wonienkind call them, thrown over 
pretty heads, were no uncommon objects for ten 
minutes or more. After wandering undecidedly a 
short distance up the street, the two companions 
returned and groped across the obscurity prevalent 
in the “finest site in the world,” and turned to the 
right up the Haymarket, which for such a broad and 
commanding thoroughfare was also inconveniently 
gloomy. “This is a decent street; let us hide it,” 
seemed to be the spirit in which the lighting was 
undertaken. 

At the top of the hill, there were, however, evident 
signs of the endless bustle and vivacity befitting the 
junction of the main arteries of a great city. 
Here was light enough and to spare, which disclosed 
the unfinished nature of the improvements. Eight 
opposite, on the far side of the circus, was a vacant 
lot, railed around and literally strewn with old bricks 
and heaps of mortar. A useless building had been 
pulled down to make room for a more handsome 
edifice, and on the walls of the adjoining house were 
the divisions of the rooms, clearly marked, with 
fragments of wall papers, sickly green, and rich red 
and gold. One could barely grasp these details at 
night, but there were still faint traces of the day- 
light. On the next corner, occupying the whole of 
an irregular quadrilateral, stood an imposing build- 
ing with immense stone pillars, giving a great 
majesty to the edifice which the innumerable lights 
and bill-boards, to say nothing of the weird glare 
and ghastly fiames proceeding from a couple of chaf- 
ing dishes, proclaimed to be a place of amusement. 

“ That’s new since I was over before,” said Frank- 
lin, gazing admiringly at the building we have just 
endeavored to describe. 


182 


THE AMEKICAK FAUST. 


“I guess it’s the Grand Opera House,” was Tann’s 
comment, “ taking into consideration the undoubted 
excellence of the site and the chaste architectural 
features of the edifice.” 

“ We’ll soon find out; let us cross over.” 

When they arrived on the pavement in front of the 
object of their admiration, they were surprised to 
find the advertising boards adorned with various 
pictures, some of muscular lady high-kickers, and 
announcements of strong men and champion acro- 
bats. 

“It’s a dime museum,” concluded Franklin. 

“ Pavilion,” said Tann; “let us go in.” 

And they paid their money and went in. The hall 
was luxuriously furnished, and brilliantly aglow with 
countless incandescent lights. Before each seat and 
affixed to the back of the one forward, was a recep- 
tacle for drinks, with a rail round to save the pre- 
cious fluid from being upset. 

“This is all very nice,” said Tann, settling himself 
down into his fauteil. 

“ Yes,” agreed Franklin, “ nothing is wanting now 
but an equally refined and pleasing entertainment.” 

“ Oh, there’s no fault to find with the — ah — enter- 
tainment, don’t ye know ! ” put in a voice from 
Elliott’s right. 

Our two friends turned to scan the author of the 
remark. He was a tow-headed, vacuous-looking 
young man, with sleepy, washed-out blue eyes, which 
were fixed dreamily on nothing in particular. His 
mouth was open to its full extent in a vain attempt to 
take in the gold head of a formidable walking-stick ; 
he had evidently been dining. 

His right eye lapsed into a wink in recognition of 
their inspection, and he freed his mouth to address 
them. 

“You are strangers here, I perceive; ah — Ameri- 
cans? ” 

Sadler bowed. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 183 

“Always liked Americans. Heaps o’ money and 
no objection — ah — to spending it, don’t ye know?” 

“I didn’t. We,” said Tann, mendaciously, “are 
attached to the American embassy.” 

“ That so? ” asked the stranger. 

“Yes,” answered Tann, consoling his conscience 
with the reflection that all true Americans were 
more or less attached to the embassy. ‘ ‘ I am Sadler 
A. Tann, and my friend here is the celebrated diplo- 
mat, Franklin Elliott.” 

“Nevah heard of him I How de do? I’m Gus — 
Lord Augustus Cerulan; all the waitahs, bobbies 
and boxahs in London know me, don’t ye know? It’s 
a howwid boah, isn’t it? ” 

Franklin assented, although he had not a very clear 
idea as to what was the bore. 

“Hold on!” remarked his lordship, imagining that 
Sadler was about to speak; “heah come the sistahs 
Cheddahl” 

• Lord Augustus’ slang and affectation were a ludi- 
crous combination, and it was with painful effort that 
Franklin refrained from laughing. 

The sisters Cheddar, Ada and Flossie, were evi- 
dently sisters of two different families; for one 
was blonde, and a terror to automatic weighing 
machines, while the other was a pronounced bru- 
nette, of the promontory order of anatomy. The 
band played a brass and drum symphony, and the 
“histrionic twins” (vide, programme) proclaimed 
themselves, “ The dawlings of the men,” and followed 
up their assertion by a weak dance, half shuffle and 
half attidude. Lord Cerulan explained that Flossie 
used to sell fish in Whitechapel before she took to the 
stage, and that Ada was a pal who had been in the 
floral profession. The dance over, there was dead 
silence, and the brass then blazed forth its protest 
against the favor shown the drum, and Ada and Flos- 
sie asked the gentlemen in the audience, “Would yer 
meet us, if we arst yer to? ” 


184 THE AMERICAN FAUST. 

Tann in alarm asked Lord Gus, “If it was all like 
that?” 

My lord assured him it wasn’t; that they never 
reckoned to have more than two or three good turns 
an evening and that these were only fill-ups. 

Tann started in horror. “And have we to sit 
through three hours of, ‘Would yer meet us, if we 
arst yer to? 

‘‘If you like,” said Gus; “but nobody listens. 
We simply drink and smoke until the stars come 
on! ” 

Whereupon he called for a waiter, and entreated 
his new friends to fortify themselves for the ordeal 
by having brandy and soda, or a whiskey and seltzer 
with him. 

Soon after, a conjurer appeared and worked some 
inferior tricks, such as Franklin had seen done hun- 
dreds of times before. This magician unhappily 
pitched upon Sadler to select a card and to look at it 
carefully, “so’s he would know’t again 1” Tann did 
so, and very successfully queered the feat, to the "" 
amusement of the audience. 

“This is about as lively as a funeral procession,” 
said Franklin, with a yawn. 

Presently there was a buzz of excitement, and 
Augustus warned his companions to keep their eyes 
open, for Maudie Winsome, “the pet of the upper ten,” 
was about to appear. Once more the band blazed out, 
and Maudie dashed on to the stage and shouted, in 
a foggy voice, suggestive of over training, “Where 
should we be without the chaps ?” and between verses 
indulged in what was called ‘ ‘ patter. ” This was of the 
feeblest kind, depending for applause on the vitiated 
tastes of the audience ; for there was nothing which 
raised a laugh, outside occasional thinly-veiled shady 
allusions. Franklin Avas disgusted. The closer the 
lady sailed to the wind, the more the audience gave 
themselves over to hilarity. Sadler was surprised; 
he looked round the hall to see if the audience were 


IHE AMERtOAK J'AtJSi. 


185 


not of a rough type, such as dockmen or sailors. But 
no, they were most of them in evening-dress, and by 
their drawl and affected conversation evidently 
swells. The waiters knew them and spoke to them 
as my lord, or marquis, or viscount. Two-thirds of 
the spectators were of this class, which, if it needs 
must be vicious, could at least be sybaritic in its vice. 
They were, however, the heartiest laughers at the 
questionable remarks, and in tneir own languid way 
the most conspicuous personages ; talking at the top of 
their voices whenever anything of little interest or of 
real histrionic ability was presented. 

Sadler was staggered, and although out of tune 
with what he saw, secretly rejoiced. Nevertheless, 
that unfortunate failing of his, thinking aloud, could 
not be checked, and his soliloquy took the form of a 
tirade against unwomanliness. 

“It’s bad enough,” he remarked to himself, “to 
have a man come on the stage, and in the presence of 
an audience degrade humanity ; but for a woman to 
step forward in such a brazen way and — pah ! it de- 
fies anything I have yet encountered in this wicked 
world. I’m not to blame for it, I know I’m not. If 
any fellow had come to me with a proposition to 
tempt a woman to give such a vulgar exhibition, I 
should have scouted the idea as absurd ; as brilliant 
in conception, but not feasible, and here I see it done. 
Verily, fact is stranger than fiction.” 

“I’m with you, Tann,” commented Franklin. 

“Where are the reformers? But what good would 
they do? Abuses, when confined to the lower orders, 
are quickly detected and wrestled with ; but here we 
have education, and birth, and breeding to deal 
with, and reform is difficult not to say dangerous 
to the reformer. What a difference there is in 
women ! ” 

“It pleases me to find your views so similar to 
mine,” interposed Elliott, who did not see the sense of 
letting Sadler have a monopoly of the fioor. 


186 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


But Sadler quickly snapped him up in continuance 
of the subject. 

“Why, what does it say for the age in which we 
find a building so handsome devoted to so inferior a 
class of entertainment? Its existence cannot even be 
excused on the ground of tradition. The place is new, 
and this, in combination with its elegance, proves the 
taste for this unintelligent amusement to be increas- 
ing not diminishing.” 

Lord Augustus probably thought it time to say a 
word in defence of the institution, and drawled out, 

‘ ‘ It’s a spirit of good-fellowship keeps this sort of 
thing going.” 

“ Oh, is it? You must love each other very much,” 
sneered Tann, “to run the risk of being bored to 
death by fraternizing here.” 

“Oh, come,” said my lord, “a little relaxation is 
necessary in these go-ahead days to obviate the 
danger of a brain-fever epidemic.” 

“ There’s no fear of these patrons being affected by 
an epidemic of that nature; an isolated case is the 
most one can expect,” interrupted Franklin. 

“ Eelaxation !” exclaimed Tann, “you call this re- 
laxation? If your fellow-countrymen find relief in 
vicious jests and semi-obscene allusions, I pity 
them— I do indeed. Where is the fun? Can you tell 
me a witty speech, a flash of repartee that has been 
made here to-night? Would such have been appre- 
ciated? No! a really epigrammatic turn of lan- 
guage, a satirical remark would fall as flat here as a 
lump of dough on a marble slab! The intellects of 
the people are stunted. Oh, it makes me weary! 
The world in its wickedness has carried itself to a 
pinnacle of cheapness, a dizzy height of tawdriness ; 
and all I can do is blush at its of necessity being 
ascribed to me.” 

“To you?” said Augustus, in astonishment. 
“What have you to do with it? ” 

“Eh? What?” answered Tann, “what — ” 


THE AMEKICAH EAUST. 


187 


“ Sadler A.,” whispered Elliott, “ you are the most 
communicative devil it has ever been my lot to meet. 
You would shine far more brilliantly as a missionary 
than in your present sphere; you have mistaken 
your vocation.” 

Tann metaphorically kicked himself with his thick- 
est reproof-boots and lamented his argumentative 
nature and the fondness for elementary logic, which 
he loved to apply to the happinesses of life as he saw 
them. 

By the time this discussion terminated, a celebrated 
comique was on the stage singing a ditty, the chief at- 
traction of which appeared to be noise; the delight 
of the aristocratic audience appearing to have no 
bounds on receiving an invitation to join in the 
singing of the refrain. For a few seconds the howling 
of voices of every variety, some like fog- whistles, 
others like the sound of tearing cloth, rang in the 
confined atmosphere of the hall. Sadler A. writhed 
in agony, and Elliott laughed at his evident suffer- 
ing. 

This boisterous refrain the audience cheered, 
jflAore at its own lung triumph than at the comique’s, 
whom they suffered to proceed, as he at least led them 
up to the harmonious ebullition. 

‘ ‘ Let’s go ! ” proposed Franklin, whose ears had 
not acquired the taste for ^uch combined vocifer- 
ation.” 

“You fellows going?” drawled Augustus. “It’s 
not nearly finished.” 

“No, but we’ve had enough,” said Franklin, rising 
in hot haste. Sailing up the aisle, followed by Tann, 
he went out into the refreshing air of the night. At 
that juncture Sadler A. Tann again recalled the fact 
that he had been again neglecting his business ; so he 
led the way to Leicester Square, halting before a 
showy looking building the front of which was toned 
by the soft light of many colored lamps. Underneath 
the awning which protected patrons from the in- 


188 


THE AMEKICAK EAUST. 


clemency of weather, the glare of lights was intense ; 
and all round was bright and inviting, although de- 
serted, there being some attraction rampant inside. 
Franklin paid for seats and they entered. This hall or 
theatre was very much larger than the one they had 
just left and was crowded almost to suffocation; 
nearly every seat was occupied and the broad prome- 
nades were thronged with people. Franklin elbowed 
through the crowd, and finally was able to secure a 
leaning place against the back of the circle or balcony 
whence he obtained a view of the stage. A ballet was 
in progress, and as the combinations of colors and 
interweaving of tints and formation of groups were 
really beautiful, he was compelled to own that this, 
from an artistic standpoint, was infinitely superior 
to the entertainment they had been so glad to aban- 
don. He turned his head to note the expression of 
satisfied interest on the faces of the spectators, but he 
failed to find it. A noble indifference characterized 
the greater number, and many never even looked at 
the stage. 

He was still intently gazing on the Terpsichorean 
gyrations, when he felt some heavy personage pres- 
sing with force against his arm, and moved to see who 
it might be. It was a lady, who, had he been able to 
view her face, was very possibly attractive ; but her 
features were disguised in a thick incrustation of 
paint, touched off with a profuse dabbing of rouge 
which took the blush rose of the cheeks up to the 
corner of the eyes. The effect was pleasing to the 
artist, perhaps, but Franklin thought it badly done. 
There was a powerful odor of pigment, and, in addi- 
tion, a miasma of Patchouli, wafted in his face to- 
gether with the breathing of brandy and soda. It 
made him almost faint. This work of art, who was, 
in spite of her attempt to hide it, young, leered at him 
with a wicked impudence in her eyes, and finally ad- 
dressed him in French. Mr. Elliott, whose failings, 
when he failed, were on the side of simplicity and 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


189 


nature, stared her straight in the eye with cool, 
exasperating indifference. 

She was not the least abashed, for she answered him 
with a wink. Thereupon Elliott, seeing that she was 
of a kind too hot to be frozen by human agency, 
turned his back upon her charms and continued his 
inspection of the stage. The lady then talked at him 
in broken English, but he took not the slightest notice, 
and on the conclusion of the ballet walked away with 
Tann, who had been on his other side. 

The termination of the dancing seemed to be a sig- 
nal for a general rush to the buffet and the promenade 
became inconveniently crowded. Elliott, looking 
around to study the character of the assemblage, ob- 
served that a majority on this floor of the building 
consisted of sisters of the lady who had accosted him. 
There they were, scores of these females, with their 
faces painted in every violation of the canons of real 
complexion, white and pink, or pink all over; with 
carmined lips, greasy and unnatural; sickly in the 
disbursement of smiles to one and all ; with eyes pen- 
cilled, and bright with an intense glitter, sparkling 
with artificial clearness: hair dressed in the most 
coquettish style and topped by impudently tilted hats 
and bonnets. Their jaunty, unreal gait and the 
ridiculous swing given to the rear projecting humps 
of millinery should have made them objects of 
derision, but they were in their glory. Evident 
habitues, they stalked boldly in the yellow radiance 
of the gas, and ogled and leered, and talked with 
none to check them or, at least, none who con- 
sidered it worth while. Their toilets were varied 
and, for the most part, showy, but unfortunately a 
decided two-thirds of the figures lacked the consistency 
of slimness. They ran to fat and were, some of them, 
terrible to gaze upon. Sadler beheld the authorized 
infamy with eyes of delight, such as a devil would as- 
sume, even if he felt . it not. He had betrayed him- 
self once before that evening, and being now on 


190 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


his guard, resolved, if possible, to sin in the opposite 
direction. 

“Nice-looking girls, some of ’em,” he said, almost 
apologetically, and looking round with an affected 
admiration. Whereat Franklin laughingly com- 
mented, ‘ ‘ Sadler A. Tann, you’re an infant ! There is 
no use your attempting to retrieve yourself . Your real 
opinion is continually getting the better of your pro- 
fessional instinct. It is likely, if I had never made 
your acquaintance, that I should have hpmanly erred 
in most directions ; but your homilies and your con- 
tinual presence as a wretched example, to say nothing 
of outside influences of which you know little, keep 
me in a fairly uncontaminated condition. There is 
little unhealthy excitement in my life; little garish 
enjoyment and high-tension pursuit of pleasure; but 
there is a sense of restfulness and an easy take-things- 
as-they-come-ishness which I decidedly cherish, and I 
owe it all to you. Sadler, you are my benefactor, 
and I thank you.” 

They were at the head of the stairway leading out 
into the street, and a second time that evening they 
retired from a place of amusement wearied. Turning 
into Coventry Street, they proceeded, each buried in 
his own reflections, towards Covent Garden. 

Elliott wondered if his letters had been received, 
and why Violet had sent him no replies. She was as 
vividly present to his sight now as she had been the 
first moment of their memorable meeting ; maybe she 
was cold, he reflected ; but better an inanimate marble 
than such creatures of flesh as he had lately seen. 

It was a pleasure to him to breathe in fancy the 
atmosphere endeared by her presence. Is it incon- 
sistent with the character we have given Elliott to 
make him as foolishly doting as other men have been? 
If he is a cool, unimpressionable Yankee, must we rob 
him of all finer sentiments and human feelings? We 
guess not. What would he not have sacrificed then 
to have held her to his heart, while he whispered, in 


THE AMEEICAH FAUST. 


191 


words, the more earnest from his accustomed reserve, 
the secret of his affection ? — And between them was 
the awful compact he had made ! 

How often had he repented it, and how often had 
the knowledge of its influence in bringing them 
together and saving her, caused his sorrow to he 
tinged with gratitude ! 

What would the end of it be? From the moment 
he had met Violet the very knowledge of her seemed 
to destroy the charm of any pleasure Tann could 
offer, and the conclusion was forced upon him that 
he had bartered his eternity for a shadow, which cast 
itself over what happiness he might have experienced 
in this life. It was the fable of the gluttonous dog 
over again. In grasping the reflection, he had for- 
feited the reality and lost even the reflection. 

If she only knew ! What then? 

Better to tear her memory from his heart ! Yes, he 
would forget her ! And he started in by wondering if 
she had forgotten him. 

His speculations on Change were phenomenally suc- 
cessful. Selling at the highest rise, and purchasing 
more stock only to dispose of it at good advance, is a 
speedy way of making a fortune. 

And for all this accumulating of money, Elliott per- 
suaded himself, he had but one object. On his depart- 
ure he wished to leave an honestly acquired fortune 
to charity ; he imagined his heroine as the controller 
of his gifts, and it pleased him to fancy the respect 
and admiration she might, in her ignorance, feel 
towards him. 

Tann had been doing his share of thinking, too. 
He had been turning over in his mind the little 
response his efforts met with. Elliott was his, 
undeniably ; but he wished to fit him for his future. 
He would be out of place in hell, in spite of the agree- 
ment, if he remained as uniformly virtuous as he had 
been. Such an element in Inferno would be incon- 
gruous and inconvenient, 


193 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


Added to this, Sadler A. Tann was conscientious; 
he did not wish to labor under an obligation. Thus 
far, Elliott had given all and received nothing. Tann, 
in addition to the deed of gift, was acquiring experi- 
ence, worldly wisdom and perspicacity for evil. 
What was the other getting? Nothing! 

If the man could only see the allurements of fast 
living, the delights of vice, his span of life would be 
rosy and cheerful; but he couldn’t, or wouldn’t. 
Verily, the life of a devil is not all straight sailing. 

Through the gloomy-looking market, where heavy 
carts and drays were accumulating, they sauntered, 
unimpeded. But presently the sidewalks grew more 
populous, and when they turned into the Strand, the 
crowded thoroughfare was almost impassable. 

Outside the theatres there was an assorted throng 
of vehicles, facing in every direction ; some with the 
horses rearing to escape the poles of other cabs and 
broughams; others backing upon the pavement, to the 
danger of the people waiting to cross. There was a 
general uproar and pandemonium of yells. Bus driv- 
ers, cabmen and coachmen were shouting to each 
other and swearing. Touts rushed in and out among 
the wheels, in the endeavor to obtain cabs for clients 
at the street corners. Recognized commissionaires 
bawled for Lady X’s carriage or Lord T’s hansom. 
Rough youths, crushing and elbowing through the 
bystanders, sang coarse songs at the top of their 
voices. Added to this medley of sounds, venders of 
obscene literature in the gutter shouted their disgust- 
ing wares with all their lung power. Hawkers of a 
low journal, whose aim was to live on the love of 
vice, which, in the sheeps’ clothing of virtuous indig- 
nation, it attacked ; which dwelt on revolting details 
and expanded them to the joy of the depraved, and 
grandiloquently perorated on the suppression of evil 
in scathing words, belied by the undue prominence 
given to the vulgar head-lines, vociferated the attrac- 
tions of this libel on the press. 


THE AMERICAIf FAUST. 


193 


Sellers of filthy pictures thronged the kerbs ; insult- 
ing ladies by offering their wares to the gentlemen 
escorting them. To these were added the bedizened 
wretches, whose forms are human but whose souls 
have sunk till they might degrade the corporeality 
of beasts, jostling through the groups, uttering their 
ribald comments and graceless jests as they went, in 
open defiance of those present to keep order. 

The Strand by night, as it might be seen by virtu- 
ous women coming from the theatres ; by wives and 
mothers; by daughters in their virginal innocence, 
and by marvelling youths ! 

In other great cities we find some restraint on the 
grossness of the multitude; here, §eemingly none. 
Authority is too virtuous to admit the existence of 
vice. 

Ten minutes later, the decent citizens have left this 
main-way of viciousness, and the streets and by- 
streets are unreservedly given to those women who 
imagine every passer to be their lawful prey, whose 
loathsome vanity makes them the motive of every 
chance wayfarer’s presence in those undesirable 
parts. There they stand, these Aholahs, in foul 
groups of two or three, lurking like spiders, in their 
dirty corners, for their foolish victims ; or seizing the 
arms of passing youths, till the unwilling need by 
force to tear themselves away from their uninvited, 
jneretricious embraces. 

Sadler watched the scene long and silently. Fi- 
nally he said, with a sigh, “I couldn’t wish for any- 
thing worse.” 


CHAPTER XV. 


IN WHICH LEONARD BECOMES AN AMERICAN IN EARNEST, 
AND ARRANGES TO BECOME A BENEDICT. 

It will be again necessary to do something phenom- 
enal in the way of travelling, and in the turn of a sen- 
tence to transport the reader to the purlieus of Fifth 
Avenue. Who will object? If there exists a man 
who is indifferent to the charms of two such girls 
as Belle and Violet — for if the latter is not quite 
his style the former must be —then I say such a man 
had better remain behind with Sadler A. Tann in the 
old world. Herein, in admiration for these sweet 
women, lies the weakness of the pen, and also the 
strength of the pen — ^using “ pen ” as a collective, 
meaning ‘ ‘ literature.” If an author is uninteresting in 
his girls, he had better lay down the quill of imagina- 
tion and scribble away with the nib of statistics. Let 
us visit the abode of Peter Woods, in which Violet’s 
interests on her numerous investments are so care- 
fully studied. 

Peter was a stockbroker, and he had put his 
niece’s money out to great advantage, until constant 
handling had decided him that the original capital in 
^ome way belonged to him and his boy, Leonard. 

It was a sad, unsatisfactory youth, this same 
Leonard. He would not go the way they desired; 
his “ Yes, father,” meant nothing, and his “ Certainly, 
mother,” even less. 

Since his rejection by Violet he had been very 
brotherly, and she had grown to like him in spite of 
his affectation. After all, he wasn’t a bad sort. He 
ha4 been partly taken into her confidence abqut 


THE AMERICAN- FAUST. 


195 


Franklin, and just at present he is of the firm convic- 
tion that that gentleman is “a deuced blackguard, 
don’ch know? ” 

Poor Violet! she experiences, at last, the pangs of 
unrequited, or rather supposed unrequited affection, 
and the lack of real cause never softens the pain. 
She had answered his letter with an overflowing 
heart ; anxious to tell him not to fear, and yet fearing 
to ; dying to let him know that the passion he hinted 
at was reciprocated, and withal, too maidenly. So 
the letter was despatched ; a letter brimful of girlish- 
ness and sincerity, and simply friendly in its tone — 
even to the most experienced reader between the 
lines. But it often happens that the sentiment of 
the reader, and the wish that is father to the thought, 
puts an interpretation on the letter which exceeds 
that of the mere sentences ; so it would have been — 
and what results might not have followed? — had 
Franklin received the epistle I 

But Sadler had been beforehand, and the several 
fragments of paper blessed by her dear handwrit- 
ing were consigned to the mud-run of a London gut- 
ter. 

Franklin was not the only one deceived. How 
could he answer a letter which had never reached 
him? How was she, expecting the letter to arrive at 
its destination, to look forward to the slight of being 
ignored? 

This is really the only reprehensible piece of busi- 
ness credited to Sadler A. In his former temptings, 
and leadings into the occasions of sin, he had behaved 
like a gentleman ; but this interception of correspond- 
ence was mean and contemptible — and yet excusable. 
He knew the weakness of his case. That contract was 
all very well ; but would it hold, supposing the paper 
never to have been stamped with the seal of some 
glaring misdeed? Therefore it was his game to bring 
about that misdeed, and, his worldly wisdom teaching 
him that the magnet of a pure love attracts a man tQ 


19G 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


proper behavior, the magnet had to be removed. 
“ The end justified the means,” said Sadler A. ; a false 
aphorism, which is responsible for a good two-thirds 
of the crimes which blur the chronicles of time. 

Thus it was Franklin increased in curtness and dis- 
agreeable moods towards all ; and Violet became quiet, 
or unnaturally gay at times. She waited for weeks 
for the letter that never came.‘ Every morning was 
she first at the breakfast table to look over the mail, 
and daily did she sink deeper into the mire of dejec- 
tion. 

So do men and women ever sink, until the soft soil 
of the bog rises nigh to their lips ; and when hope is con- 
signed to oblivion, their feet strike the hard ground 
of endurance, and helped by the friendly hand of 
another affection they are extricated, to live happily 
ever after. (Vide Fairy Tales.) That is the case 
Avith the generality of mortals, and_ perhaps with the 
chief personages of this tale; though probably they 
Avill be longer sinking and quicker rising. 

But this narrative has not of a surety educated the 
reader to deeps of empyrean gloom, and, in short, 
does not appeal to lovers of the morbid. When Miss 
Woods had come to the sad conclusion that he did not 
care for her, and had added, with all humility, “ why 
should he?” another comet flashed across her horizon, 
though not yet sufficiently glorious in array to dim 
the brightness of the first. This was a young million- 
aire, whose air, however, was not that of more than 
a competence ; an air (or quality) of modesty which 
-often is possessed in inverse ratio to the claims to be 
otherwise. 

His name, it matters not. No reader is fool enough 
to think he affects the result. On second thoughts, 
he’s a good felloAv ; you might just as AA^ell be intro- 
duced to him. His name is Sidney, Fred Sidney. 
That doesn’t sound like money to you, perhaps ; but to 
a considerable circle in NeAv York it was synony- 
mous with Croesus, 


THE AMERICAN FAUST, 


197 


He had seen Belle Harper; thought she was splen- 
did fun, and that was all. He saw Violet Woods ; and 
threatened loss of fortune, if he persisted in loving 
her, would not have affected his resolution. He had 
made up his mind that she was the only woman for 
him. Hundreds have, done that before him and mar- 
ried some other only woman ; he followed their ex- 
ample; and Peter Woods, seeing that Leonard’s 
chances of his cousin were of the nature best de- 
scribed as “ remote contingencies,” rather encouraged 
his pretensions. 

We have another love affair to keep an eye on — 
Leonard’^. 

Like a detective shadowing a suspect, he prowled 
up and down on the sidewalks in front of the Harper 
mansion for weeks ; and. the following sample of con- 
versation was gone through almost word for word, 
every morning at about eleven o’clock. 

“ Good-morning— ah — Miss Hahpah.” 

“ Good-morning, Mr. Woods ! It's very strange how 
I manage to meet you every morning about this 
time ! ” 

“ Yaas, very. This is my fav’rat ah (ah = hour). 
Mayn’t I walk a little way wuth you, don’ ch’ know? ” 

“ If it’s not inconveniencing you, Mr. Woods? ” 

‘ ‘ Inconveniencing me ! Ah ! I say. Miss Hahpah ! ” 
This sentence usually finished up with a sigh, a lan- 
guishing look and a second breakfast from the-end of 
his cane ; then the two would walk down town. 

Leonard waited outside the stores while Belle pur- 
chased, and on the return journey the poor dude per- 
formed the duties of an express wagon. 

He generally had a parcel imder each arm, and two 
looped on to the first digit of each hand, so that when 
he perspired, he had to allow the beads to trickle 
down his forehead and to drop upon his well-starched 
bosom and elegant vest. Such devotion must in time 
make an impression! Such sublime indifference to 
the ridiculous figure he made, when he was loaded 


198 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


with his packs like a beast of burden, had to meet 
with recognition ! 

“ It’s very good of you, Mr. Woods, to insist on car- 
rying my purchases, when I could have them sent, or 
employ a messenger boy’s aid,” said Belle to her 
admirer. 

“I don’t see letting any messengah boy have so 
much pleashah, I asshaw you.” 

“ It’s kind of you to say it’s a pleasure, Mr. Woods; 
but you don’t really mean it! ” 

“Don’t mean it! ah. Miss Hahpah, you libel me, 
you do, bai Jove! I could enduah any kind of mah- 
tahdom for yah sake, — don’ ch’ know? ” 

“ It is a martyrdom, then? ” laughed Belle. 

“Yaas,” he replied; “but ah, what greatah hap- 
piness is theah than dying in a good cause? ” 

“But to submit to being laughed at, as you do; 
it’s a great sacrifice ! ” 

“ The fellahs laugh at me because they cawn’t coi> 
ceive anything so awnamental as I, being useful as 
well, don’ch know? ” 

Useful, that was just it! Leonard was wise enough 
to start his suit with an admission of brainlessness, 
and he courted his adored one from the plane of an 
inferior, endeavoring simply to be of use to her. A 
few weeks of this utility manoeuvring and he became 
a necessity to Belle, as, ‘ ‘ such a dear little fellow ! so 
obliging ! untiring in his efforts to please me ! ” Then 
the wily Leonard was absent for three days ; and as 
Belle each morning stepped out of the house to find 
him not there, and walked to her shopping alone, and 
returned without her purchases and her “messengah- 
boy,” the day did not seem to have its usual com- 
pleteness. She scorned the idea of being in love with 
him ; but nevertheless Jack came on the third evening 
to the Woods domicile to call on Leonard— and at 
Belle’s request. He saw Violet also, and told her he 
had on Tuesday received a cablegram from Franklin, 
commissioning him to buy Anacondas, and another 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


199 


that Thursday morning, telling him to sell at two 
o’clock. 

“It’s wonderful where he gets his information!” 
said Jack. “Anacondas were at 86 when he cabled, 
and at two o’clock to-day they were at par. There 
was a sudden boom, and everybody tried to buy and 
prices went up; they reached par, and since then 
they’ve dropped a point or so. How he knows what 
to do so far away, is simply unaccountable! He 
made about twenty thousand clear on the deal.” 

Jack had little cause to grumble; he had taken 
Franklin for his mascot lately, and his own dust-heap 
was swelled to the proportions of a young mountain 
in consequence. 

Violet heard and sighed, and Jack, who knew the 
state of affairs, took her hand and said, “Cheer up. 
Miss Woods; there’s some underhand business on, I’m 
sure. Franklin is not one to turn round suddenly 
and without cause; you’ve given no cause, aud- 
its as simple as the pons asinorum — therefore 
somebody has invented a cause. It will all come 
right.” 

These visits of Jack Harper’s always cheered Violet 
considerably, just as the honest, sincere attentions of 
Fred Sidney dulled her. 

“How’s my beau?” asked Belle, when Jack 
returned. 

“Your beau is all unstrung,” answered Jack, 
“ has inflammation of the collar-bone and may not be 
about for weeks. ” 

Leonard, whose plan had worked to perfection, was 
on the sidewalk next morning, and Belle’s smile, as 
she greeted him, lent a deeper tint to his fair cheek 
and fluttered his heart as the wind did the flowing 
ends of his neck-tie. 

The parcels that morning were extra heavy, and 
his heart was correspondingly light, as Belle laughed 
at him and told him she would quite like him if he 
would not ape the absurdities of British Swelldom. 


200 


THE AiiERlCAH EAtJST. 


This remark led to an interview between Jack Har- 
per and Leonard, at the latter’s solicitation. 

“Belle — excuse me, calling yah sistah, Belle — tells 
me she would quite like me if I didn’t ape British 
idiosyncrasies — ah— or something of that sort. 
What do I do that is peculiah? ” 

“Lots of things,” answered Jack; “but the first 
and worst thing is that, when you’re out walking, it 
don’t seem as if it’s you taking out your clothes, but 
your clothes taking you. That’s bad and unmanly. 
And next thing — well, I guess your affected pronun- 
ciation is the next and most sickening of all. ” 

“What’s wrong with my pronunciation, deah 
boy?” asked Leonard, surprised by the accusation. 

“ It’s all wrong. For instance, my name is Harper 
— not Hahpah. ” 

“ Well, I say Hahpah. ” 

“ Yes; only there happen to be two rs in the word, 
and if you can’t show their existence otherwise, 
roU ’em. Har-rr-pe-rr. See? not Hahpah. ” 

“ I don’t notice that I say Hahpah; the spelling 
doesn’t suggest it. Anything else? ” 

“Yes: say ‘peculiar.’” 

“Peculiah!” complied Leonard, triumphantly. 
“Yes? Well, that doesn’t happen to be right. 
Peculiar is spelled ‘ar’ not ‘ah.’ There are scores of 
other things, such as ‘ don’ch’know.’ If you’ve got to 
use some expression of that kind, stick to ‘ I guess ! ’ 
It’s a national affair and no other people can accuse 
us of plagiarism on it.” 

“Very well. I’ll try and remember.” 

“You may think it a great thing to be a bad copy 
of an English dude, but a bad original of an Ameri- 
can is a better. Try and remember these points, and 
you’ll have a chance.” 

He didn’t say for what, but Leonard understood. 

A week passed by, during which Leonard never 
neglected his beast-of-burden business ; finally he de- 
cided that it was time to speak to Belle, and in prepa- 


THE AMERICAN EAUST. 


201 


ration he bearded his father in the library one Sun- 
day evening. Peter was ensconced — what a round, 
seductive word that is ! — ensconced in his pet chair, a 
large, soft-padded morocco with swivel action ; he was 
a crusty old party, who took his rest stiff -backed, the 
nearest approach to comfort being the resting of his 
legs on another chair opposite. There was a gas read- 
ing-lamp on the table with a red shade, throwing all 
the light down, and in this steady effulgence Peter 
Woods read — or pretended to read — that weighty, 
weekly encyclopaedia of news, the Sunday Earth. 
Leonard walked in, in a jaunty style novel to him, the 
result of great effort and watchfulness on his part— 
he was undudenizing himself. Peter looked up at 
him with a sniff of disdain, and continued his reading. 
Leonard took another chair and seating himself, 
placed his feet on the seat which already held his 
father’s. Peter stared at him with astonishment, 
over his spectacle rims, and Leonard disrespectfully 
and playfully opened the conversation by saying, 
“Ah, there, pop!” 

“ What does my pride and my joy want? ” said his 
father, sarcastically. 

“A serious conversation,” answered Leonard. 

“D’you think you’re capable of such an effort?” 
asked Peter. 

“ I am as capable of such an effort, fathah — father— 
as you are of respecting your exclusive offspring,” 
was Leonard’s rejoinder. 

Peter growled, turned his paper inside out, read a 
few lines and then looked up interrogatively. 

“D’you mind putting the papah— paper— down? ” 
said Leonard. “What I am about to disclose may 
considerably affect you and I don’t wish you to hide 
your emotion in a — ah, newspapah— per.” 

Mr, Woods was so unaccustomed to being addressed 
in this way that he obeyed instinctively. 

“What is it?” 

“ Do I look as if I’d been married?” asked Leonard. 


202 


JHE AMEEICAI^ EAUST. 


“What!” shouted Peter, jumping to his feet. 
“You married? You young cub! how dare you, 
without asking my consent? How—” 

“Let up, father,” entreated Leonard, “and answer 
the question. Do I look as if I’d been married?” 

‘ ‘ How do I know how whelps like you look when 
they’re married ! ” 

“ Thought perhaps you’d noticed your own appear- 
ance when you were turned off,” retorted Leonard. 

‘ ‘ I won’t give you a cent. You’ll have to go out into 
the world and work as your father did.” 

“I’d rather starve than be dishonest,” said Leon- 
ard, unconsciously wounding his parent in his softest 
part. 

“Then you may starve! You have wedded some 
upstart without my permission. You are an unduti- 
ful son, a mimicking — ” 

‘ ‘ Stop there' father— I am no longer a mimic. 
Leonard’s himself again, so spare your abuse. I am 
not a Benedict yet.” 

Peter was a little vague as to what “being a Bene- 
dict ” meant, but he simmered down and Leonard re- 
sumed. 

“What would you say—? No, I won’t begin that 
way! Have you noticed, father, now, for the last 
week, I have been gradually becoming American? 
Have you noticed I no longer speak with affectation, 
and that I walk now as if I didn’t care whether I 
bagged my pants or not? and that I don’t wear my 
arms in bows, so? Have you noticed all this, I say? ” 

Peter nodded assent. 

“Well, what would you say to the girl who had 
accomplished this feat— this marvel, in one short 
week? A feat which you have not been able to ac- 
complish in twenty-three years?” 

“I shall be proud to offer her a typewritership,” 
said Peter, with sublime sarcasm, but with a feeling 
of respect for the girl, nevertheless. 

“She would throw it back with scorn,” said Leon- 


THE AMERICAN EAUST. 


203 


ard, as if a typewritership were a dollar-bill or some- 
thing tangible. “But, playfulness aside, I’m clear 
gone, father, and I want to know what you’ll do for 
me in the way of allowance? ” 

“Who’s the girl? ” asked Peter, thereby almost ad- 
mitting consent. 

“ The daughter of one of the richest merchants in 
the city; Belle Harper’s the girl. I guess— notice 
how I say that — ‘ I guess ’ her father will spring a 
quarter of a million dowry ; you can’t do much less 
by me.” 

“ I’ll interview him on the subject,” said old Woods, 
and the conversation for the time was dropped, Leon- 
ard apparently having gained a tacit consent. hJext 
evening Mr. Woods informed his son that he had seen 
Mr. Harper, who was agreeable, and that he, Mr. 
Woods, was also ready with a quarter of a million. 
Leonard thanked his father, saying that he wasn’t 
such a bad sort after all, considering what he had had 
to put up with, meaning himself, Leonard. 

There was only one person to consult now, and that 
was Belle. Here .Leonard grew nervous ; so much so 
that on Tuesday morning he was not at his accus- 
tomed post, arid Miss Harper vowed to freeze the slave 
when she next saw him. It was evening. Harper Jun- 
ior and papa, as also mamma, who thought Leonard 
a nice, quiet boy, avoided the drawing-room, leaving 
it clear for Belle, who was to all appearances uncon- 
scious. Not she, however! very little escaped that 
cute young lady’s notice, and it only needed a casual 
word to give her a clue to this behavior on the part of 
her parents and brother. One word, overheard, did 
all — Leonard was expected. A wink from her father 
to Jack told her more, namely, that the alliance was 
looked upon favorably by the family ; and the reader 
may be surprised to hear Belle was rejoiced and 
anxious to see her dear little dude. 

Presently there came a knock at the door. Leonard 
was there, standing outside on the rug, with his stiff 


204 


THE AMEIUCA^^- EAUST. 


starched bosom crumpling and cracking with emotion 
as his chest heaved. A second time he knocked, and 
his knees trembled, as in tone of assumed indiffer- 
ence, Belle said, “Come in! ” 

Leonard opened the door a very little and, putting 
his fair hair in timidly, asked, “ May I come in ? ” 

“Didn’t I say come in?” rejoined Belle, frigidly ; 
and Leonard Woods’ heart sought the coijipany of his 
feet in his boots. 

He slowly walked towards her, twirling his hat, and 
blushing the color of the lining, which was of terra- 
cotta silk. At her side he stopped. She motioned 
him to sit down. He did so. 

A heavy silence ensued, and the ormulu time-piece 
ticked with jarring virulence in a vain endeavor to 
sound like a kitchen-clock. Apart from the tick, the 
quiet was so intense that Leonard’s face could almost 
be heard twitching. 

Belle smiled behmd her fan, and kindly thought to 
give the young man a lead to victory. 

“Mr. Woods!” 

Leonard started up to his full sitting height, then 
collapsed as suddenly as if somebody had removed 
his vertebral column and forgotten to replace it. 

“Mr. Woods,” she repeated, lifting her eyes to his 
face, with a something in their depths which made 
his*heart revolve like a triple screw, “how is Violet 
this evening? ” 

“Violet is very well,” answered Leonard, glibly; 
and then stammering, “She — er — wanted to send 
her love to you; and I offered to take it, because — ” 

“Yes—?” 

“ Because I thought — um — anything in the shape of 
love to you would be so much safer in my keeping 
than — er — in anybody else’s.” 

Belle, putting on a look of bashfulness and dropping 
her eyes till the lashes swept her cheeks, said in a low 
voice, “ It is very kind of you to say so.” 

Surely, that shyness will bring him to it instantly ! 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


205 


. Belle, however, was startled out of her equanimity by 
his next question, which was quite aside from the se- 
quence. 

“ Miss Harper, do you think a fellow is ever justi- 
fied in taking his own life? ” 

“Never!” answered Belle, wondering what was 
coming next. 

“ Not even in self-defence?” 

“I don’t see how a man can take his own life in 
self-defence.” 

“I do; in several ways. He can destroy himself to 
prevent somebody else doing it ; or he may settle him- 
self so as to defend himself from a lingering death.” 

“ But what does all this mean? ” asked Belle, almost 
impatiently. 

“ It means that I’m threatened with lingering death, 
and if I don’t see my way to a cure. I’ll jump off 
Brooklyn bridge.” 

“You must call in a physician: that is all that’s 
left to you.” 

“I will. I want a lady doctor.” 

“Leonard!” said Belle, unwittingly surprised into 
his Christian name. 

“Belle!” almost shouted the enlightened Woods, 
junior, and he had the audacity to kiss her without 
permission. 

Two minutes later he was seated with his arm 
around her waist, telling how she had made an 
American of him, and that though he was born in the 
country, he had thought it desirable to become nat- 
uralized. He was very happy. And she, who two 
months back would have been ashamed to own any 
relationship with him, really felt moved with affec- 
tion for the good-natured little fellow. 

“What did you mean by saying you wanted a 
lady doctor ? ” 

“ I meant,” said Leonard, “ to imply that you were 
the only person who could save me.” 

“And would you have committed suicide for me? ” 


206 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


“ 1 may not be believed when I say it, but I’d have 
had a try for it. Oh, Belle ! how is it you can toler- 
ate a sponge-brained jay like me? ” 

“Because,” answered Belle, “the sponge only needs 
squeezing to give off numbers of good ideas.” 

“Squeeze away, my darling Belle!— my bride 
Belle!” 

“Your funeral Belle!” interposed she, taking the 
initiative and kissing him. 

Jack and her father entered the room, and the for- 
mer immediately danced an irreverent Scotch reel in 
front of the loving couple. 

“ Leonard, my boy, you’re a lucky dog.” 


CHAPTEE XVI. 


IN WHICH S. A. TANN HOLDS A COMMITTEE MEETING, AND 
HAS A LIVELY TIME GENERALLY. 

Weeks have passed since the conclusion of the last 
chapter, and Franklin has seen all he cares to see in 
the Modern Babylon. London for a solitary man, is 
the most desolate spot on the globe’s surface. There 
is no greater solitude than isolation in the midst of 
millions. How truly dismal it is to sit in your sky- 
chamber, and looking over the miles and miles of 
roofs, to think that not one covers a friend ! 

There is depression in the very sound of the sen- 
tence. The subject would make a deliciously mourn- 
ful essay — to language, what a nocturne of a blasted 
forest, or a moonlit desert, is to painting. Sadler 
passed a great portion of his time in the bar-rooms 
along the Strand. He had the faculty of making 
acquaintances, especially among the disreputable, 
which Franklin, in his most careless moods, never 
cared to imitate. Mr. Tann frequently returned from 
his excursions in a low state of mind. For his edifi- 
cation, he had taken to inspecting flie condition of 
the slums of the East End of London, and the preva- 
lence of wickedness and want of sanitation had wor- 
ried him considerably. 

The crimes he had seen committed in cold, revolt- 
ing brutality had sickened him. He had always 
from his distant abode attempted to conduct crime 
on a fairly decent basis. If murder were sufficient 
to encompass the ruin of a man’s soul, he tempted 
him up to that point, which once achieved, he was 
satisfied. But he had seen that sin, framed in the 


208 • 


THE AMEKICAH FAUST. 


horrors of mutilation, accompanied by every conceiv- 
able enormity, and rendered more repulsive by an 
atmosphere reeking with squalor and heavy with the 
foulest abominations of existence. His spirituality 
had enabled him to be present on occasions such as 
had never greeted the eye of mortal justice, and his ' 
supposed malignity, instead of being steeled to nobler 
efforts, trembled for itself with, nevertheless, a touch 
of satisfaction. Since he had been a sojourner in the 
vale of tears, his opinion of himself had risen in 
proportion as his estimate of mankind had lowered. 

There might be degrees of wickedness in devils, he 
thought, but even among the dwellers in the bottom- 
less pit, he held it a hopeless task to find one who 
could begin to equal, in all round depravity, some 
men as he had seen them. 

In his misery there was a solace. His observations 
of the terrestrial sphere had convinced him that it was 
possible for him to draw off a large portion of his 
forces from the temptation of the many who really 
needed no assistance, and to concentrate them for 
attack on the honest and upright few. 

The gentlemanly instinct, which, in spite of himself, 
had been grafted on him by association with 
Franklin, had once, at least, led him into serious 
trouble. 

On one of his rambles, he had seen a drunken bully 
engaged in the playful occupation of kicking his wife 
up and down an alley. Sadler hated cowardice; so 
he went up to the man and said, “ Why not kill her 
outright and put her out of her misery? ” and the 
brute struck him with great force between the eyes, 
so that he even saw stars. He fell, and the conqueror, 
shod as he was with heavy hob-nailed hoofs, sprang 
into the air and dropped, with his two hundred and 
forty pounds avoirdupois on S. A. ’s chest ; and, out of 
gratitude no doubt for interference on her behalf, the 
formey victim helped her mate and extracted hand- 
fuls hair from our poor devil’s scalp. Xhis enter^ 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


209 


taining pastime would in all probability have contin- 
ued till the assailants were exhausted, had not Sadler 
disappeared, with a strong resolution never to be um- 
pire again in a game of that description. It was 
clear to his intelligence, that his influence on Franklin 
Elliott was negative; in other words that Franklin 
was, if anything, making a decent fellow of the devil, 
whose admiration for him was unquestionable. So 
absorbing was the love Sadler bore his companion; 
that the mere idea of separation was sufficient to 
draw tears to his eyes ; but on this particular day of 
which we write, pressure of business put an end to 
further cogitation. 

It was close on three o’clock, at which hour a 
momentous committee-meeting had been convened. 
He had been obliged to hold the council in his rooms, 
unknown to the proprietor, because there was a tacit 
understanding between Franklin and himself, that 
he, Tanii, was on no account to return home, even on 
a flying visit. 

Nearly all the well-known personages were there, 
in answer to Sadler’s invitation. The worthy devil 
was in a state of feverish excitement ; for disquieting 
rumors had reached him and a stormy time was 
more than probable. 

The first of the princes of darkness to appear was 
Beelzebub, who, in the Christian world, is a house- 
hold word and a prime favorite. He came up through 
a crack in a plank. 

All being assembled, Tann rapped the table twice 
with his hair-brush. This was a signal for silence. A 
hush fell upon those present and they could hear the 
wall paper warping from the heat. Then Sadler A. 
Tann rose with dignity, blew his nose like an ordinary 
mortal — he was suffering from influenza — cleared his 
throat, and making as if to speak, looked around him 
— and didn’t. There was quite an awkward pause ; 
for Sadler in his human nature had acquired a 
certain amount of diffidence, which would not wear 


212 


THE AMERICAIf FAUST. 


Onak, Elmazron, Ichaflus, Bastaluk and several 
other third-rate devils reposing upon the bed, cried, 

‘ ‘ Shame ! ” and Beelzebub, looking round with scorn 
curling his lips, said, “Lucifer is growing proud ; he 
despises his own.” 

“ Growing proud! ” echoed Tann. “ On earth I am 
a proverb of pride. As proud as Lucifer ! It is a 
common thing with human beings ta recommend each 
other to my tender mercies.” 

He was proceeding with volubility, when a perfect 
storm of hisses resounded through the apartment. 
Sadler A. took off his coat and rolled up his shirt- 
sleeves in sign of readiness for battle, but vacated the 
rostrum in favor of Beelzebub. 

“ It seems not enough,” continued the prince, “ to 
degrade himself by his truckling, but he needs 
must — ” 

“Needs must when the devil drives,” murmured 
Tann, sotto voce. 

— “ Insult friends and comrades with whom he has 
been associated in evil and the misery necessary to it, 
for several thousands of generations. It is cheap 
valor — very cheap. Now, as our late friend has, from 
some unknown cause, taken unto himself the manners 
and insolence of a recognized humorist, it ill befits us to 
reach our end by narrowing circles, when a straight 
line, as defined by our ancient colleague, Euclid, is the 
shortest distance between two points. Let us follow 
our straight line to its conclusion. There are times, 
my brothers, when the greatest diplomacy is to say a 
thing in the fewest words. One of the best author- 
ities on the subject, whose place in the pit of Tophet 
is several sizes too small for his gigantic intellect, has 
told me that the summit of diplomatic eminence is to 
be attained by speaking the strict truth with a stolid 
countenance and an expressionless eye. Why? ” 

Nobody thought necessary to answer. Who ewer- 
interrupted an oration by replying to what an orator 
intended to reply to himself ? 






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THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


213 


“ Why? ” continued Beelzebub ; “ because the most 
common failing of humanity is doubt. Faith is almost 
an unknown quantity; and doubt, therefore, suspects 
truth and looks into the face to detect a lie. And it is a 
well established fact that unmistakable innocence of 
expression is considered the most convincing proof of 
falsehood. Herein I speak of liars of the first rank, 
therefore — ” 

-Cries of “Order!” “Get on with the subject!” 
“ Hurry up! ” 

Sadler’s good humor seemed to be having its effect. 
Still Beelzebub remained unruffled ; but there came a 
knock at the door, and Sadler called out, “ Who’s 
there?” 

“ Gentleman in No. 25 wants to know if you’ll be so 
good as to make a little less noise,” answered a voice. 
“ He’s very ill.” 

This threw a damper on the proceedings. Moloch 
was furious at the idea of being dictated to by mortals. 
Eblis was for adjourning to twenty-five, and there 
raising general pandemonium. Sadler, however, 
waved his hand for silence, and requested the sub- 
dued yet excited crowd to remember that they might 
get him turned out of the hotel. 

Beelzebub then made another start, this time in 
lower tones. ‘ I have hitherto been interrupted in all 
my approaches to a definite charge against Lucifer, 
our once revered chieftain; but time presses, and 
during our enforced inaction virtue may be making 
vast progress throughout the world. Lucifer ! ” and 
in his earnestness he lapsed into the heroic, “thou 
hast neglected thy business ! Thou art under the thumb 
of a mortal whom thou pretendest to seduce into tho 
ways of vice ! Thou no longer manifestest interest in 
our manoeuvres and machinations, and Hades is going 
to the dogs. It would not surprise us to hear that thou 
feelfest sorrow for the iniquity thou hast accomplished 
in the past, and that. thou wert setting up for a saint.” 

“Worse men than I have set themselves up for 


214 


^HE AMEEICAI^ FAUST. 


canonization honors,” said Sadler, unconsciously drop- 
ping from his commonplaces. 

“Thou,” went on Beelzebub, “hast little heart in 
thy work ; but goest about like a Crack-brained mor- 
tal, drinking deep of the fountains of vapid enjoy- 
ment and tinselled luxury.. From clime to clime thou 
flittest, thinking of naught save pleasure; while we, 
your friends, writhe in neglect and immortal torture. 
Thou mayst object, and will, withal, that, as thy 
sufferings are immortal too, so can they never leave 
thee. But we are not fools ; no pangs so great but may 
in excitement be forgot. Thou hast lived in a deli- 
cious whirl of enchantment ; it’s time ’twere ended. 
At intervals so rare that they are useless, thou makest 
efforts. Thou presentest temptation to the one soul to 
which thou hast devoted thy time; but more often 
thou moralizest like a virtuous philosopher; and if 
truth must be spoken, the man thou wouldst influence, 
] 30 ssessing the stronger mind, doth bend thee to his 
will. Ah! thou art weak; no longer fit to rule a 
community of colossal strengths and mighty intellects 
like this. If thou wert deposed from thy high estate 
and set beneath the meanest devil of us all, yet would 
the rank be too elevated for thee! — thou truckler, 
thou weak-time server and helpless invertebrate! I 
have spoken.” 

Beelzebub seated himself on the dressing-table, and 
an ominous silence ensued for several seconds. 

Then Tann stood up. 

“ Before I enter on any defence,” he announced, “ I 
wish to know whether any one else desires to run our 
infernal organization ; if so let him stand up, and if I 
don’t, * metaphorically speaking, tear him into a 
thousand fragments, I am no longer the old Satan 
you used to admire and dread.” 

The reader must understand that it is no longer 
Sadler A. Tann who is speaking, but that gentleman 
divested of the weakness and timidity of his flesh and 
defiant as the once brightest, angel of all — Lucifer. 


THE AMEEICAH FAUST. 215 

The effect of his words was instantaneous I He im- 
mediately regained the respect of his auditors; and the 
after hearing given to him was that of inferiors to a 
superior, not of equals to equal. 

•'You may have heard,” continued Sadler A., 
“ how one man went, full of belligerence and firm re- 
solve, to knock the stuffing out of another, for some 
offence known to him, the one, alone; and how the 
other, verily turning on him, did, forsooth, reverse 
the process, and did mash the assailer into an unrecog- 
nizable pulp. Then, when victory abode on his side, 
he did ask his foe the wherefore of his attack ; and 
when the wherefore was explained, the victor said, 

‘ I am not the man you thought me.’ Wherein he 
spake the truth ; for neither was he the offender, nor 
was he the man his erstwhile attacker took him for; 
else the conflict had inclined the other way. So if 
any demon here cares to take the gage I throw down, 
I will first even render him so stiff an account that 
his own mother, had he one, would not recognize 
him; then will I explain the motives for my conduct 
and offer excuses, having first proven the excuse the 
outcome of innate politeness and willingness to satisfy 
insatiable curiosity, not of timidity or sense of guilt. 
Beelzebub ! what say you, will you take the gage?” 

Beelzebub heard it, but he heeded not. 

Sadler, however, did not appear to notice his omis- 
sion ; for, sinking back into his mortal insignificance, 
he touched the button of the electric bell, and said, 
“ Boys, make yourselves invisible.” 

This they did ; and when, in answer to the ring, a 
waiter entered the room, he saw nothing of note, and 
nobody save Tann. 

“ Bring me a bottle of the best brandy and a dozen 
of soda,” ordered Sadler. 

The waiter bowed and retired. 

“ My throat gets parched and dry if I talk long,” 
said Tann, ‘ ‘ and as I have an oration of some length 
before me, I want to start fair.” 


THE AMEEICAH FAUST. 


JiiO 

The other infemals failed to see the necessity for 
liquor and drinking. If a pleasure, it was one in which 
an etherealism could not participate. A spirit cannot 
drink ; there’s no place to pour the liquor into. 

The waiter returned, placed the several bottles in 
front of Tann, and again retired. Sadler helped him- 
self to a coi^ious drink, in which he toasted “ Continu- 
ous prosperity to Hades j” coupling the toast with the 
name of his honored friend Beelzebub. 

Lubricated, he erected himself into his most impos- 
ing attitude and commenced, “Brothers, the innu- 
endoes and open accusations levelled against me have 
given more pain than the fabricators wot of. I have 
been absent from your midst but a few short months, 
and already the cardinal sins of envy and covetous- 
ness have been at work. You turn your weapons 
against yourselves and me, the inventor. This is 
the basest ingratitude; this it is which affects me 
more than the mere offence — the thought that our 
centuries of brotherly love are futile after less than a 
year of absence. Oh my brethren, as one Shakes- 
l^eare has it, ‘ Blow, blow, thou winter wind, thou art 
not so unkind as man’s ingratitude ! ’ and I presume 
that the same applies to ingratitude of demons in a 
still more marked degree.” 

This pathetic opening created quite a sensation. 
Muloch would have blown his nose had he been 
human ; Bastaluk trembled with emotion, and Beelze- 
bub, the arch-rebel, looked mournfully at the brandy 
bottle. The pause for effect having attained its pur- 
pose, Sadler A. proceeded : 

“ The chief accusation appears tome, as well as I 
can sift it from the heterogeneous rubbish my col- 
league Beelzebub hath twaddled, to be that, firstly, I 
have neglected my business. This is absurd and 
childish! Why? In the first place, as director of the 
company I am not compelled to do menial work. I 
am simply forced, by the exigencies of my position, 
to see that the labor of the subordinates is effective 


THE AMERICA1?- FAUST. 


217 


and unceasing. I have studied the science of organi- 
zation thoroughly in my terrestrial sojourn, and on 
my return to our own domain, important alterations 
may be brought about in the composition and classifi- 
cation of our cohorts. Again, wherein have I wasted 
my time? The ramifications of human desires are a 
never-ending study; however much we apply our 
intellects to this engrossing subject there is always 
more to learn. The changes rung on the hells of 
human nature, though not infinite, are as numerous 
as the capacity for design of a kaleidoscope. For 
your sake, and for the advancement of perditionizing 
principles, I have sunk my pride ; and you who know 
the extent of my pride, cannot fail to comprehend 
the greatness and mortification of that sink. I have 
been to school. I have drunk the elixir of knowl- 
edge from the fountain-head, and here, without dis- 
guising the fact or striving to soften the blow, I tell 
you we are not living up to our reputations. 

From the beginning of time, humanity has been 
advancing. Apparently, there is no end to its prog- 
ress, and it seems each step forward is to the last 
advance, as the total advance to the very beginning 
of all. From such a race as this, information is to be 
gleaned. You devils who tempt from afar, are apply- 
ing the methods employed in the Eocene period to the 
men of the newest formation; and what is the re- 
sult? You fancy you damn men— excuse me, gentle- 
men! — fancy, I say; but you are wofully mistaken. 
The majority damn themselves. Your paltry sugges- 
tions assist a few who are foolish and childlike in 
their nefariousness; hut to the great body of men 
you are harmless. This is news to you; and it is 
possible you doubt what the old Father of Lies tells 
you ; but for once his words are truthful. You have 
but a faint conception of the depth and extent of 
human wickedness. I have seen and read of crimes 
which would freeze the ichor of your in substantiali- 
ties. I cannot describe the foul details of some mur- 


m 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


ders and assaults. I cannot, without bringing the 
blush of modesty to your cheeks, dilate upon the 
complications and diversities of almost universal li- 
centiousness ; some of it seeking the glare of publicity 
and striving for the palm of loathsomeness; more, 
equally disgusting, unknown to the multitude from 
the dust of hypocrisy thrown in its eyes. I cannot go 
into special cases of fraudulencies, merely the neces- 
sity of positions of trust, yet entailing the ruin of 
thousands ; nor the forgeries and corruptions of jus- 
tice. Ah, there is only one devil paramount now, 
and he heeds not our opposing interests; I refer 
to self-gratification. I have had my eyes opened; 
there are reasons for this. Education gives men 
greater facility for wrong-doing and more refinement 
in guilt, which of course adds and not detracts there- 
from. I have visited the temples of public education, 
where the absurdities of the classics are grafted early 
on the mind, and I have noticed a large percentage of 
the youths boasting of an atheism which they con- 
sider clever. Those who do not' profess infidelity, 
practise it; they consider themselves animals, and 
endeavor by the conduct of their lives to verify their 
opinions. Thus to most there is no deterrent; no 
belief in a future, and no belief in our existence. I 
assure you, gentlemen, I have had men tell me to my 
face that I did not exist ; and by logical inference and 
deduction, convince me not only that I wasn’t, but 
that I never had been. If it were possible to the 
carping logician, he would deny eternity itself; so 
far, however, the possibility of such an absurd denial 
has fooled their willingness. The mind which asserts 
there must have been a beginning, and endeavors to 
draw a picture of the chaotic void in which the in- 
ceptive germ performed its vivifying manoeuvres, is 
apt to drift into drivelling lunacy. It is easy to com- 
mence with a void — if you wish to grant a com- 
mencement— but if one reject the void, what then? 

“Thus, then, it will be observed that the world — 


I’fiE AMEEIOAK FAUST. 


219 


speaking in a general way — is wicked; and why 
should it not be? What is your idea of the man who, 
not believing in a future life, consents to make him- 
self miserable in this by the pursuit of virtue? for 
virtue without an object is — I can find but one mono- 
syllable. for it — rot ! 

“Love good, not because it is profitable, but be- 
cause it is beautiful ! What a noble sentiment, 
brother devils! The person who raises his hands 
in unbelieving piety and denies the existence 
of a superior being, makes himself the arbiter of 
goodness! One mortal’s opinion is as valuable as 
another’s, and once the sentiment I have related 
spreads its pure wings over humanity, individuals 
will raise their own standard of good ; and as names 
are apt to lose their original significance, present 
vices may be future virtues. 

“What then is left for us? Shall we merely rest 
until the autumn is near and then rise up to reap the 
harvest? or shall we expedite the ‘ fall’? If society 
is in such a corrupt state that is is merely held 
together by the bandages of preservatory instinct, 
how easy would it be for us to tear away these 
ligatures! I will show you. Vice may be divided 
into two genera, gilded and squalid. In degree 
of viciousness the gilded takes it ; but the squalid, 
in addition to its other traits, comprehends a 
hatred for the gilded; not because of its inherent 
badness, but because of the gilt. Once the poorer 
variety gets the upper hand, all barriers will be 
broken down and. vice will no longer hide in corners 
or blush for itself, but will walk in the broad glare 
of its own indecency. The true road to this desirable 
end is through man’s passions. New modes of pan- 
dering to them must be devised, until the slime and 
sensual refuse of licentiousness, instead of being con- 
temned, are lauded, and men and women vie with 
each other in leading vitiating lives. I have no sug- 
gestions to offer which are not already ripe in the 


220 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


minds of many mortal men. The abolition of mar- 
riage attained, then will be the millenium of vice. 
You are surprised; you never thought of this! 
Neither did I think of it ; but I gleaned the idea from 
an intelligent, well-educated man whose sole desire 
was to break down the trammels of superstition. It 
may be argued from the other side that the abo- 
lition of matrimony will do away with our most suc- 
cessful commandment ; but so long as a sin condemns 
to hell, what matters the degree of it? This measure 
once attained, we can look forward to a realization of 
our long cherished hopes ; but in furtherance of such 
an end we must labor. You must educate yourselves 
up to the standard of man and then tempt him as 
an equal. And I have provided for your curriculum. 
You will find in my trunk literature by writers, sec- 
ular and clerical ; some exposing developments possi- 
ble from the universality of infidelity from the point 
of advisability ; others tackling the hydra on relig- 
ious grounds, and showing how and in what disgust- 
ing complications it must terminate. Read these and 
ponder over them. Whichever side of the question 
you study, the seed of noble suggestion sown in your 
mind may grow into plants of self-conceived devilish- 
ness. 

“ Ponder on this; reflect and conjure up visions of 
riot and lasciviousness, no longer confined to dark 
ways or the privacy of brilliant salons, but wide- 
spread in streets, and theatres, and hotels, and dwell- 
ings. The general reign of Cybele and the worship of 
Isis is at hand! All depends on your efforts, my 
brothers. Gird on the armor of night; arm your- 
selves with the cardinal sins; train yourselves as 
for a battle that may be long and arduous, but look 
forward to an easy triumphal march to victory and 
the final uprearing of the banner of yours, in time 
and eternity, Satan.” 

The effect was electrical. A thousand hands were 
stretched out for his, Beelzebub’s pair in the van. A 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


221 


thousand devilish voices were raised in a mighty but 
inaudible cheer, which shook the Grand Hotel to its 
foundations, and was felt as far east as the Temple 
Bar Memorial. 

Tann had triumphed. 

Then the meeting dispersed through the keyhole 
and the cracks in the floor, and down the gas-burners, 
and up the flue, and Sadler was left alone. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


IN WHICH THE READER GETS CONSIDERABLY MORE THAN 
HE EXPECTS. 

When “ coming events cast their shadows before,” 
it implies that the sun is to rearward. If the light is 
in front, then coming events cast their shadows 
behind. This is far more sensible, if an event wishes 
to come without giving notice of its appearance ; and 
<*• as most important occurrences are totally unexpected, 
it follows either that the shadow had gone aft, or 
that, if it were to the fore, those who were looking 
for it were gazing the wrong way. 

There’s only one other way out of the difficulty, 
which is that the event didn’t cast any shadow at all; 
being nocturnal in its approach, or coming at a time 
of day when shadows are at a premium. 

Oh, if we could but live our lives as we start in ! 
How fresh and innocent we are in those days of our 
too-young-to-be-otherwiseness ! How happy and free 
from care is that festive period when our parents are 
wrestling with six-foot troubles and dogged persever- 
ance! We have nothing on our minds so long as we 
have plenty on our stomachs. 

Indigestion, fell demon of the latter days, is to 
the infant machinery unknown. What bliss to be 
able to absorb limitless quantities of pie, green apples 
and roast pork, without fearing that sword of Damo- 
cles, Indigestion 1 That bliss is only to the young 1 
What then is the moral? Load up to the muzzle with 
pie, and when in after years your capacities lie not 
pie ward, rejoice in the fact that you put in good 
time while the driving wheels were unclogged by 
disease ! 


THE AMBRICAK FAUST. 


223 


Great Britain again! We keep travelling across 
that Atlantic streak, but our period of rest is coming, 
and this was the coming event we suggested as fore- 
shadowed by the pairing of£ of our sub-heroine. 

Franklin’s letters remained unanswered, and he 
who in company never showed how he felt, had, 
when alone, or with Tann, his periods of depression 
all along the meteorological coast-line of observa- 
tions. 

The weather chart, as indicated by him, was to be 
read as dull, variable, with a tendency to showers, 
local.” 

Tann, our good, thoughtful, tender-hearted Sadler 
A., saw the gloomy misfits come over his friend, and 
he unconsciously took his tone from the atmospheric 
conditions. 

They were setting out upon a midday ramble, when 
Tann, observing the usual gloom settling down upon 
his companion, endeavored to rouse Franklin from 
his moodiness; but with his usual adaptability for 
the wrong course, he asked what was the matter. 

To a man of Elliott’s disposition sympathy unde- 
sired is unappreciated. Tann did not think of this ; 
hence the answer, “That’s my business,” fell upon 
him like a hot potato on a Persian carpet, utterly 
uncongenially. 

He recovered from the shock, and placing his arm 
in Franklin’s next, said, “Cheer up. She’s not 
worth it.” 

“ Not worth what? ” asked Elliott, sharply. “ And 
who’s not worth it? ” 

“ She ! ” answered Tann. 

“What are you talking about?” 

“D’ye think I’m a fool, Elliott? Think I don’t 
know you’re disappointed in that girl? ” 

“ What girl?” 

Sadler A. laughed. “Very good acting, my friend, 
but I’m up to it. Miss Woods is not the paragon you 
imagined.” 


2U 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


Franklin said nothing to this ; he was compelled 
to own himself deceived. 

“ You’ve written to her time a'nd time again and 
she has scorned to reply. You lavished upon her all 
the love of your young, hitherto untenanted, heart, 
and where are you now? Left! Pah 1 forget her. Be 
gay, my friend! no woman is worth breaking a 
heart over. Dive into the whirlpool of society ; seek 
oblivion in the vortex of dissipation. Have you ever 
met my simile before?' In the outer circles of the 
maelstrom you whirl round with the frantic motion 
of a new experience ; and as you grow more involved 
in pleasure, the circles narrow and soon you are 
engulfed in the peaceful pivot of the eddy.” 

By this time they were passing quite a crowd 
assembled about a window devoted to the features of 
professional beautydom. Franklin’s small fund of 
curiosity was aroused ; but his dislike for gregarious- 
ness was impelling him to move away, when Sadler 
checked him by holding on to his arm. 

“That’s a new one on me!” said a well-dresed 
youth, as he moved away. 

“Very pretty,” said another; “I wonder who it 
can be. I’ve never seen the face before.” 

“ Stay,” whispered Sadler into Elliott’s ear; “ I’ve 
caught a glimpse of such features as will give you a 
severe shock.’’ 

“Thunder!” laughed Franklin, “it’s got to be a 
very poor apology for a face that can shock me.’’ 

Tann, without hearing his remark, dragged him 
into the little knot of spectators close up to the win- 
dow. Photographs of all sizes, and of all kinds of 
personages met their gaze ; statesmen, actors and ac- 
tresses, jockeys, royalties, celebrities of every class 
were mixed in the rnost republican fashion. 

Tann saw what he wanted almost immediately ; and 
completely satisfied, he turned his sinister glances to 
an inspection of his friend’s face. Franklin passed 
from one beautiful countenance to another with artis- 


THE AMERICAN EAUST. 


225 


tic admiration, but sublime indifference, and was mak- 
ing ready to turn away when a surge of the throng 
carried him along to another portion of the window, 
directly in line with the picture which had attracted 
Tann. Franklin saw it; stared, rubbed his eyes, 
looked again and again, and said under his breath, 
“ What a likeness ! ” 

There was neither paling nor biting of the lips, nor 
any sign of intense emotion, to Tann’s interior dis- 
gust. 

Franklin was not long in extricating himself from 
the press ; Tann was close on his heels. The former’s 
first manoeuvre was to enter the shop ; Fidus Achates, 
or whatever may be the antipodes of that expression, 
following. 

“Where did you obtain that picture?” asked 
Elliott of the shopman, pointing to the particular 
one. 

The proprietor supposed it came to him in the usual 
way, from one of the photographic galleries, Frank’ 
lin was not satisfied ; but he purchased it, and then 
asked if there were any more in the stock. There 
were. He bought the lot. 

“Did you notice the likeness, then?” asked Tann, 
as they left. “ I guess the man in the store believes 
it’s your wife, or sister, or somebody who’s been photo- 
graphed and exhibited for sale without your permis- 
sion.” 

“Confound their impudence!” growled Franklin. 
“ She has been photographed here, and the black- 
guards take advantage of her absence in America to 
flood the market with her features. Out of respect 
for you, Tann, I don’t often swear, but on this occa- 
sion even that respect cannot prevent me ejaculating, 
— it’s a damned shame ! ” 

“ How d’ye know it is Violet Woods? ” asked Sad- 
ler, as if in ignorance of the why or the wherefore of 
the whole affair. 

“Yes! how dg I?” agreed Franklin, “Perhaps 


326 


THE AMERICAN FAUST, 


I don't. This may be a case of double, without the 
accompanying toil and trouble.” 

“ I’ll find out for you if you wish me to! It’s just 
possible it is the lady of your heart. ” 

Franklin made no reply to this. The singularity of 
the occurrence induced refiections. Sadler, on the 
other hand, grew talkative over the memories this 
physiognomical coincidence recalled. 

“There have been numerous instances in history of 
a striking likeness getting men and women into 
trouble. Now I’ve seen everything since the be- 
ginning of time, and I’ve small doubt that I could 
astonish your nineteenth century callousness. The 
first case I can call to mind is that of Romulus — No ! 
there were two before that, but not important. 
You are aware that truth is said to be stranger than 
fiction. It’s a wrong statement, for this reason; 
namely, that everything in fiction has been done in 
fact, and that there is no fact which has not been 
feigned in fiction ; therefore the two divisions in nar- 
rative are equal in strangeness. Agreed, eh? ” 
Franklin gave an uninterested grunt of assent, and 
the talkative demon rattled on. 

“History has it that Romulus was a fratricide, 
that he killed his brother in the white heat of passion. 
History is wrong. The truth about it is this. Romu- 
lus was in love with a beautiful Sabine girl by the 
name of Mursa, and he had every reason to believe 
that the girl was crazy about him. Romulus’ brother 
was very like him (don’t say chestnuts before I’ve 
finished), so like him that Rom was obliged to have a 
mole on his neck to distinguish him from Remus. 

“ One evening, after a hard day’s work mixing 
mortar for the walls of Rome, Romulus changed his 
working toga for his dude attire, and set out with his 
heart full of happiness and his eyes of lime, to meet 
his beloved Mursa. The trysting-place was at the 
foot of a solitary pine which crowned the now Celian 
Hill. Happy Romulus setting out for the meet! 


THE AMEKICAH FAUST. 


227 


Unhappy Romulus returning out of the hunt ! As he 
drew near the pine a startling sight interfered with 
his inspection of the horizon. There he beheld his 
Mursa with her tender mouth riveted to Remus’. 
The likeness between the brothers was so extraordi- 
nary that for quite a minute Romulus believed he had 
not been late for his appointment ; but the stern real- 
ity was there. He felt for the mole on his neck, and 
knew that it was Remus who was kissing his best 
girl. 

“ Remus had been engaged in laying snares for 
rabbits, when Mursa, thinking him his brother, put 
her hands over his eyes, and said, ‘ G-uess who it is ! ’ 

“‘I guess I can’t,’ answered Remus; and the girl 
kissed him. That was the precise moment in which 
Romulus had happened on them ; had he remained he 
would have heard Remus say, ‘ Girl, you are laboring 
under an optical delusion ! I am not my brother. ’ 
But he fled down the hill on to the Aventine, with the 
darkness of despair in his soul, and a grief filling his 
heart as the sea wrestles in mighty revolt amongst 
the subterranean caves. Lifting up his right hand to 
heaven, he swore by Jove, to do an act of great 
sacrifice. ‘ I will not stand in my brother’s way,’ he 
said, * and as I cannot live without her, I must die by 
my own hand.’ 

“ That night he rose from the turf on which he was 
lying with his brother Remus, and went to the corner 
of the tent for his jack-knife ; then he laid him down 
on the bed again and buried the knife in his heart. 
When he awoke in the morning Remus was cold and 
stiff by his side ; Romulus turned pale with a horrid 
doubt; he looked for the birthmark; the mole was 
not on the dead one’s neck ! He had killed his brother 
in mistake for himself 1 ” 

Sadler had finished his story ; he looked at Frank- 
lin closely, and suddenly seized his hand, “ Franklin,” 
he exclaimed, “ you are the first one who has heard 
that through without laughing. I thank you. ” 


228 


THE AMERICAN" FAUST. 


He was really grateful; he resolved in future to 
unburden himself of numbers of historical secrets ; 
but the more important matter returned to him and 
he said, 

“ What about this affair? Shall I root round and 
see if it is the same girl? ” 

“ If it is not asking too much of your good-nature,” 
replied Elliott. 

“ Not at all! I can’t do too much for you,” said 
Tann, affectionately. 

“ Thanks! ” from Elliott. “ See you again at din- 
ner,” and for the time they parted. 

Sadler was not detained in his room more than five 
minutes; just long enough to put an extra touch 
to his variegated-dots-and-arrows, white-on-a-purple- 
ground cravat, and an invigorating brush to his close- 
cropped hair. 

Leaving the hotel at a rapid, swinging gait he 
crossed Trafalgar Square, and thoroughly at ease on 
the score of his locality bump, climbed the Hill of the 
Haymarket, turned left at the top and hailed a han- 
som. 

Why he should have walked thus far when he could 
have ridden from the outset, is one of those problems 
incapable of solution even by the person who gives 
rise to them. 

Arlingford Mansions, Hyde Park, or something 
that wafted earwards with a speaking likeness to it, 
was the direction given to the cabman. It was 
beginning to rain, so Sadler had the glass front put 
down he was very careful of his clothes), and secure 
from liquid interruption, he smoked and pondered till 
the hansom pulled up at an imposing free-stone edi- 
fice, cold and cheerless of aspect, being built on 
straight lines and unrelieved by artistic curves and 
bas-reliefs. There were, however, elegant flower- 
stands on the window-sills, and also iron balconies 
and railings lavishly ticked off with gold paint. 

Sadler alighted and paid the cabman. He threw 


THE AMERICAN EAUST. 


229 


away liis cigar, wiped his mouth with a red silk 
handkerchief, twisted np his thin black moustaches 
till they pointed hke twin capillary finger posts “to 
heaven;” and rang the bell, which was inscribed 
“Visitors,” in well-polished brass work. 

A noble looking person, in knee breeches and silk 
stockings opened the door. Sadler entered, and asked 
the fiunkey to take his card up to the lady of the 
house. 

Now the term “lady of the house” is in very bad 
odor, as being chiefiy employed by advertising 
agents and other fellows who carry samples of Mr. 
Soanso’s starch or Farm fed-potatoes, superior to any 
ever before thrown upon the market; hence Jeames 
grew wary. 

“ It’s no use takin’ the card hup, she’s hout.” 

“ Well,” said Tann, “ if you won’t take it to her, I 
must.” 

“ Come in, Mr. Tann ! ” said a very sweet voice from 
a room somewhere on the right of the hall; and Sad- 
ler, with a glance Of triumph at the discomfited ser- 
vant, passed on into the chamber whence the voice 
had issued. 

Jeames repaired to the servants’ hall in utter mor- 
tification, and gave it as his opinion that it was “some 
low American friend of the missus,” and also, “that 
everything that went on in the house wasn’t sub 
rosy. ” 

That wasn't quite what he meant to say, but what 
significance his words lacked his tone supplied. 

Tann did not remain long; he was “in a hurry to 
get back to dinner,’' and, “really would have been 
very pleased to stop, but Franklin would expect him 
and Miss Woods must excuse.” 

“Very well,” she replied, as she stood with him in 
the hall, “I’ll excuse you this time, but in future no 
ceremony.” 

“No ceremony 1” echoed Tann. 

“ When you call again, bring Franklin.” And she 


230 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


laughed her silvery, light-hearted laugh, which was 
always the foremost of her charms. 

Franklin and Tann met according to their custom 
at the table d’hote. The former, ignorant of the lat- 
ter’s recent expedition, could not very well open 
the conversation on that subject; so Sadler was 
obliged to work round to himself. 

“Very decent soup this !” said H. S. Majesty, after 
inoculating himself with the contents of a spoonful of 
puree of tomato. 

“ Um! ” answered Franklin, affirmatively. 

“Wretched day, it has been, hasn’t it ? ” 

“ Ah ! ” replied Mr. Elliott. 

“ I had business west, so I’ve been out in it.” 

“More fool you! — Halibut and Lyonnaise pota- 
toes I the usual claret I ” These last statements to the 
waiter. 

“ It was in your interest that I risked inflammation 
of the lungs.” 

It was clear that Franklin was not inclined to be 
talkative ; also that the leading up to the subject of 
interest was not to be accomplished without assist- 
ance. There being no assistance, Tann had to dispense 
with leading up. 

As the fish was being cleared, Sadler leaned across 
the table and hissed (those sort of fellows always 
hiss)— 

“ I’ve found out all about the pictures.” 

“Bring me some rare roast beef. — Have you?” 
said Franklin, calmly. 

“I have! — I want some boiled mutton and capers— 
and vegetables!— We are not mistaken.” 

“Not?” 

“No, it’s not a case of double.” 

“ That being so, the lady of the shop-window is Miss 
Woods.” 

“It is.” 

“ More bread, please.” 


CHAPTER XVIIL 

IN WHICH MISS WOODS IS AT HOME. 

The calmness with which Franklin combined his 
orders to the waiter and the questions affecting his 
life, dumbfounded Sadler A. Imperturbability goes 
a long way, both in reality and in type ; and Tann, 
although he had been studying the art of callousness 
for weeks and months, from Franklin’s example, had 
never yet on any one occasion been able to disguise 
his sentiments. The Secret of success, in business 
life, at least, rests with the man who can tell a lie as 
if he knew it was the truth. 

A few days after the foregoing events, a note ar 
rived at the hotel for Sadler A. Tann, Esq., informing 
him that Mrs. Fanfield was at home on Thursday, 
from three to five. 

Elliott learned without inquiry that Mrs. Fanfield 
was Miss Woods’ chaperone on this side, and that it 
was in reality Miss Violet Woods who was at home. 

“You’ll come, of course,” said Sadler. “It will 
be a good opportunity to ask why your messages 
were never acknowledged.” 

“So it will,” agreed Elliott. “By the by, Tann, I 
don’t often interfere in others’ affairs, but at the Art 
Club yesterday, I heard slighting remarks made 
about Miss Woods — in fact, accusations. I don’t know 
whether the depreciation of the lady is your doing; 
but if I find it is, there will be a cyclone around your 
anatomy for a time.” 

“Franklin,” said Sadler A. “these reports have 
grieved me as much as you. Miss Woods is spoken 
of as * the American adventuress’, and as ‘ the Woods 


232 


THE AMERIOAK FAUST. 


woman,’ and her name is bandied about on the tongue* 
of scandal as if she were a notorious lax-moraled 
beauty ! I can imagine your feelings.” 

“ Never mind my feelings! ” said Elliott. “ Wbat 
sort of a woman is this Mrs. Fanfield? ” 

“She’s as much of a mystery to society as Miss 
Woods ; there’s a rumor that she keeps a quiet gam- 
bling-hell for ladies, and I heard at the Grantham 
that a certain nobleman is the backer of the establish- 
ment. ” 

“And you allowed them to say it ?” 

“Certainly! I had no right to interfere on my 
own account, neither had I on yours. You’re not her 
husband, and you’re not even engaged to her.” 

“No, that’s very true! ” 

“ Any interference would have seemingly proved 
their hes, and her reputation would have been in- 
volved.” 

“ Yes ! Well ! ” said Frankhn, “ we shall, or I shall, 
find out all I want to on Thursday.” 

It will be seen from this that Miss Woods was re- 
garded as one of those beautiful adventuresses who 
fiash, comet-like, across the azure of society at inter- 
vals, and as suddenly disappear. It certainly was a 
peculiar fact that at her receptions — the male sex was 
ever in an overwhelming majority. 

Society wondered whence this new comet came, 
and arrived at the vague conclusion — America; and 
marvelled how in less than a week after her appear- 
ance, most of the magnates of aristocracy, and the 
lions of art and literature, had sought to worship at 
the feet of the unknown beauty. The tribute of the 
peers was certainly not calculated to enhance Miss 
Woods’ or Mrs. Fanfield’s moral reputation, and 
thus it was probable that the wives of many of them 
refrained from calling or leaving cards. When 
nothing is known concerning a person, evil is in- 
vented. Scandal is a spontaneous generation! In 
trifies, men and women are given the benefit of the 


THE AMEEICAK EAtJST. 233 

doubt ; but where the finger of scorn finds no excuse 
for pointing, the tongue of detraction endeavors to 
frame one. 

Had Miss Woods been merely en passant through 
London, her personality and motives would never 
have been .questioned ; but a house was taken and a 
house, too, of fabulous rental, and the deduction was— 
money. Nobody knew her and yet in less than a 
week everybody of note was on visiting terms ! 

On Thursday afternoon Elliott and Tann walked up 
the white marble steps and launched themselves upon 
the velvet-piled fioor of Miss Woods’ salon de reception. 
Miss Woods was seated in the centre of a masculine 
circle of admirers. She saw Franklin as he entered, 
and pulled her skirts on one side to make room for 
him ; but this specimen of diplomatic humanity bowed, 
and was glad to see her looking so charming, etc. ; and 
not heeding her invitation, passed on to talk to a fel- 
low attached to the American embassy. Miss Woods 
bit her lip with annoyance, and a Colonel Fitz George, 
who was making desperate love to her, scowled at 
the person who had sufficient infiuence to destroy her 
composure. 

Tann, who had no motives for indifference or 
assumed unfriendliness, dropped into the position on 
the settee which Franklin had refused, and was soon 
deep in animated conversation with Fitz George, 
Viscount Westonbridge, Lord Spongee, and two or 
three more “bucks.” The discourse was hardly of a 
liind to interest a lady, but Miss Woods endured it 
with every symptom of pleasure. 

“I had a devil of a time of it at Goodwood,” said 
Fitz George; “that weedy looking filly of yours, 
Spongee, Muscatel, let me in for a nice sum.” 

Viscount Westonbridge laughed. “If you bring 
off any more coups of that kind, Spongee, you’ll have 
the whole of the peerage in the workhouse.” 

Spongee blushed ; Muscatel was a standing joke on 
him. He had given this tip to all his friends as a 


234 


THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


“moral,” and it had been ignominiously “beaten 
off.” 

He mado his old time excuse on this occasion — 
“ The mare must have been got at.” 

“ And what does being ‘got at ’ mean?” asked Vio- 
let, whose knowledge of turf slang was of the slightest. 

“ ‘ Got at ’ means hocussed or drugged. The book- 
ies get some blackguard to dose a horse, or to give it 
a bucket of water before a race, and of course it can’t 
win, and we drop our shekels.” 

“ And is it possible,” asked Tann, “ that men are so 
dishonest as to victimize their fellows in this way?” 

“Oh, yes!” laughed Fitz George; “all’s fair in 
love— and gambling.” 

“ Then that proverb about honor among thieves is 
a mistake,” said Tann. 

“ I don’t see how your deduction applies,” said Fitz, 
dryly. 

“ Don’t you? That’s strange. I always understood 
that professional gambling necessitated thieving.” 

“Plucking pigeons! ” interposed Spongee. 

“I don’t know what technical term you have for 
it,” resumed Tann. “As far as I can see it only 
requires a very ordinary amount of intelligence to 
win on the turf.” 

“ You certainly ought to win, if that’s all that is 
required,” remarked Westonbridge, rudely. 

“The reason why I ought to win,” retorted Tann, 
viciously, “is, applied negatively, the reason why 
you have not won.” 

The listeners looked at each other in a vain endeavor 
to arrive at Tann’s meaning; so the reply was in real- 
. ity as effective as a crushing repartee. 

“You’ve never been racing, perhaps?” conjectured 
Fitz, sneeringly, addressing Sadler A. 

“Never!” responded Tann, ashamed at the green- 
ness he was displaying, “at least, not for some hun- 
dreds of years. The last race I saw was in the Circus 
Maximus, at Rome, between six chariots. Picture to 


THE AMERICAK EAUST. 235 

yourselves three hundred thousand people seated on 
galleries raised one above another! Excitement! 
Well, I should smile! The then Consul, Quintus Flu- 
vius, broke a bloodvessel as his entry was just beaten 
by the Emperor’s. “That was in the time of Domitian. ” 

There was a pause and Sadler trembled at the blun- 
der he had made ; but he soon discovered it was a 
groundless fear. His recital had been received as the 
statement of one desirous of posing as a champion liar. 

Franklin here joined the circle, and was met by a 
reproachful glance from Violet, which, though he did 
not show it, made him savage with himself for the 
pettiness of behavior he had shown. 

The company had begun to thin down, and Fitz 
George, Sppngee and Westonbridge were now taking 
their departure. Franklin and Tann prepared to 
follow them ; but Mrs. Fanfield begged them to come 
back to dinner. An imploring look from Violet 
removed whatever indecision might have been shown ; 
although Franklin made a pleasing condition to his 
surrender, namely, that the two ladies were to accept 
his and Tann’s escort to the theatre afterwards. 

About, seven Tann and his victim drove up in a cab 
to Arlingford Mansions, and were ushered into the 
drawing-room to await the arrival of their hostess. 
Elliott thought he saw in everything around him 
tokens of Violet’s excellent taste in color and bric-a- 
brac. He didn’t know that the furnishing had been 
done on contract, before she had set eyes on the 
house. In his usual easy fashion he roamed about 
the apartment and glanced at the pictures ; amongst 
them was a beautiful painting of Miss Woods. 
Before this he lingered for a considerable period, Sadler 
noticing his abstraction with evident satisfaction. 

Violet came in quietly, and stood close by Franklin, 
waiting for him to recover from his reverie. But 
not till a soft hand was placed on his shoulder did 
he wheel sharply round and see her. What a look it 
was that greeted him ! There was a new light in her 


23G 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


eyes which was strangely overpowering. It was un- 
deniably favorable in interpretation ; and yet, despite 
the thrill it gave him, he could not quite bring him- 
self to like it. But her bewitching smile dispelled 
his doubts. “ How did he like her picture? ” 

He answered that it was really lovely until the 
original stood beside it, and then the picture left off in 
beauty where the original began. 

The sounding of a gong told them that dinner was 
ready, and Mrs. Fanfield entered, to be escorted to 
the dining-room by Sadler, who was forcibly re- 
minded of the Martha credited to him in the play. 

Violet entrusted herself to Franklin’s care, and com- 
plaining of a slight dizziness, fairly clung to him as 
they followed the others. 

Franklin Elliott was again at fault. In the old 
days Violet would have suffered far more without 
giving a sign, her maidenly reserve, which quality he 
had loved above all others, was so strong ; yet here 
she was encouraging him with tender glances and 
confiding actions. 

The next minute he reproached himself for his 
absurd fancies ; he ascribed it all to his foolish vanity. 

Why should he imagine Violet cared for him more 
than — say Tann, or or Fitz George — but she did! 
There could be no doubt about it; she never smiled 
at others as she did at him. Why try to fathom the 
depths of a woman’s nature? She was sweetness itself ; 
her eyes, as they rested upon him, deepened into the 
most liquid blackness, and the imperturbable one was 
forced to avert his glance for the first time in his life. 

During dinner the conversation was at uniform 
high-tide. Mrs. Fanfield was radiant and ponder- 
ously vivacious. Tann laughed and talked on every 
imaginable topic, and the other two (it was quite 
en famille, this dinner) conversed without saying a 
word. They lingered a sufficient time over the meal 
to be late for the theatre ; a proceeding which goes a 
considerable way to proving a title to fashionableness. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


237 


It was nearly half-past eight when they entered 
their private box. It doesn’t matter whom or what 
they went to see, for the persons we are interested in 
never noticed the performance. 

Tann sat down in front, and dazzled the house with 
the lustre and fire of his diamonds, just like a min- 
strel performer; and Martha Fanfield, by his side, 
fanned her massive proportions with obtrusive 
languor. Violet and Franklin remained at the back 
in earnest conversation, which bordered on and off 
the language of love every minute. 

Had she ever received his letters? 

Violet expressed surprise to hear that he had not 
forgotten her. 

Could he ever forget her? 

She had been away part of the time and the ser- 
vants had forgotten to forward the letters ; she could 
almost cry at the thought of the pleasure she had lost. 

“Would it have been a pleasure to have heard 
from me?” We revert to the proper, direct conver- 
sational form. 

Violet answered this in simple utterance of his 
name. “ Franklin! ” There was a reproachful dig- 
nity in the tone, which the subsequent timid apology 
for the liberty served to heighten. 

“ Why shouldn’t you call me Franklin, an‘d I call 
you Violet?” said Elliott, taking her hand (accident- 
ally of course) and holding it fast in his. 

“Franklin sounds like a surname, almost, doesn’t 
it? ” sighed Miss Woods, making a weak attempt to 
draw' her hand from his grasp; but Elliott held it 
tighter, as a thrill of passion went through his heart. 
He drew his chair closer, and leaning towards her 
tried to look into her now downcast face. 

‘‘Violet, dear,” he said, “ever since I first met 
you — I — ” 

He hesitated, this cool, usually unruffled young 
man! Violet raised her head partly, and gave him 
such a glance that he was about to dispense with 


238 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


words and put his arm about her — Tann and Mrs. 
Fanfield were earnestly engrossed in front — when 
there came a knock at the door. 

“Come in,” said Franklin, almost angrily; and Col- 
onel Fitz George put his cynical head in. 

“Saw you from down below — rather, saw Mrs. 
Fanfield, and guessed you were here. Miss Woods. 
How do you do?” And shaking hands with Violet, 
Fitz George, with sublime impudence — too sublime to 
be classed as rudeness— dropped into the fifth chair 
with which the box was provided. 

“ Deuced slow, isn’t it? ” asked the colonel. 

“ I can’t say I’ve noticed it ! ” answered Violet. 

“No?” said the colonel, with a half sneer. “To 
my mind it’s utterly untrue to nature. Here’s a 
fellow in the first act simply mad about a girl — loves 
her to distraction, and all that sort Of thing, wants to 
marry her— as far gone as that. Then he discovers 
that she’s not as good as she might be — and, in fact 
that she doesn’t care about being tied down in the 
marriage tether. What does the idiot do? Instead of 
taking her at her word and the hints she has given 
him, he really breaks his heart to find his idol shat- 
tered, and his love turns to contemptuous pity.” 

We do the colonel justice to say that Miss Woods 
had withdrawn to the front of the box. “ What do 
you think of such a fellow? ” questions Fitz George. 

“I think,” answered Franklin, “he was a great 
deal better fellow than either you or I would be likely 
to be.” 

“You think so? I call him a confounded* ass. 
What are women? Pah I we read of pure women, 
whose spotless natures elevate man to a higher level 
of affection — and the rest. I wouldn’t wager a crown 
on the honesty of any woman of my acquaintance.” 

“You are not fortunate in your acquaintance,” 
retorted Elliott; “ or else it is possible a knowledge of 
you is not conducive to virtuous progress.” 

You fiatter me ! ” sneered Fitz George, “I’m not 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


239 


SO fascinating as to have every woman at my feet.” 
Here he half looked at Miss Woods. “But I don’t 
believe in them any the more ; it’s only a question of 
the right man coming along.” 

“ These noble sentiments of yours must make you 
an eagerly sought guest at family reunions and 
mothers’ meetings ! ” suggested Elliott, sarcastically. 

“You mean that negatively, but you’re nearer the 
truth than you reckoned upon. I am generally 
known as that ‘ wicked Colonel Fitz George ’ and 
wicked Fitz George is looked upon as a necessity. No 
expedition is complete without him ; no picnic can be 
really satisfactory without his cynical remarks and 
covert sneers. Bless you, man ! I’m thoroughly con- 
versant with myself; and I am somewhat proud 
of being an unblushing, broad-daylight scoundrel.” 

“ I see! You are lost to all sense of shame; hypoc- 
risy which has shame for a motor is not such a bad 
vice after all.” 

“ Think not? Are you one of that brand? ” 

“Whatever mistakes I may make I endeavor to con- 
ceal, in order to save my friends from blushing for me.” 

“ How considerate 1 I’m just the opposite. I love 
to shock people’s sensibilities ; the worse they think 
me, the better I like it 1 ” 

“You’re a man after Tann’s own heart. He would 
like to cultivate your acquaintance.” 

“How is it you make a friend of a fellow whose 
qualities you profess to dislike?” 

“We have to tolerate all manner of undesirable 
people in this world.” 

Colonel Fitz George smiled sardonically, and moved 
to the front of the box, with a jest to the ladies that 
“a true soldier always aimed to be at the front.” He 
seated himself in such a position as to interpose 
between Violet and Franklin, rendering optical 
telegraphy impossible. 

Elliott thereupon began musing as before ; and he 
carried on a very energetic debate within himself on 


240 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


the subject started by Fitz George. He divided on the 
question, with the result of a large majority in favor 
of ideal woman. His eyes rested on Violet’s form as 
he settled the question ; and then he deliberated what 
alteration it was which had come over her. He had a 
half fear that he had betrayed himself too readily ; 
but so far he had not advanced beyond retractability. 
He would wait and watch a little longer. 

Meantime Fitz George was indulging in a desperate 
flirtation with Miss Woods, and it appeared that it 
was not one-sided. It was quite a while before 
Franklin became cognizant of their by-play, and 
when he did he first heaved an inaudible sigh, which 
confessed that the idol had feet of clay after all, and, 
then became insanely jealous. It was a new ex- 
perience to him ; but if Violet were embarking on a 
coquette’s career with the intention of rousing his 
anger, she gained no gratification whatever, for the 
countenance of our young friend was immovably 
careless— not stolid with assumed indifference. That 
axiom about “as good fish in the sea,” never works 
with lovers, for the reason that no lover believes 
it. 

Franklin, however, felt keenly. We take the read- 
er into confidence as to his feelings, because, as has so 
often been mentioned, his face was as unreadable as 
an Egyptian papyrus to the ordinary American. But 
because a man does not show pain, it does not follow 
that he is free from suffering. So please don’t accuse 
us of dropping the character; we are simply revealing 
secrets we have no right to. 

Under these circumstances, Mr. Elliott was heartily 
glad when the play was over; but even then that mili- 
tary Mephisto would not retire gracefully. He must 
see Miss Woods to her bifougham, and he had his 
way. The ladies snugly seated in the darkness of the 
carriage, the gentlemen said good-night ; but Franklin 
managed to be the last. He put his head in at the 
open window, and she was so close that he kissed her 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


241 


very lightly, but, with what I believe is called impress- 
ment. Perhaps she overlooked it ; anyhow she said, 

“ To-morrow at three? ” / 

“Home!” rudely ordered Fitz George to the coach- 
man, and Franklin, to save his head, was obhged 
to retire with the question unanswered. 

“Why did you do that? ” demanded Franklin, 
calmly; “ couldn’t you see I was talking? ” 

“All’s fair in love and war!” said the equally 
imperturbable colonel, lighting a cigar. 

“Who said anything about love? ” asked Franklin. 

“ I did, ’’answered Fitz George. “War may follow.” 

“Is the circle in which you move as uniformly 
rude as you are?” interposed Tann, annoyed for Elliott. 

“Yes,” answered Fitz George; “rudeness to infe- 
riors, in fact, to everybody, is quite good form in 
society.” 

“Well!” said Franklin, “if you imagine you are 
talking to an inferior now, don’t stand in your own 
light. Be as rude as you like ; I only ask one con- 
cession in return for my permission.” 

“ And what’s that? ” asked the colonel, with a 
supercilious curl of the lip and a puff of smoke. 

“ The right to be rude in return,” answered Frank- 
lin. “We Americans are, by your ignorant country- 
men, credited with frequent use of the six-shooter, 
but we suit our weapons to our opponent.” 

“ Oh ! ” from the colonel. 

“Yes: we shoot dogs and men; we kick curs. 
Good evening ! ” 

“ Won’t you come and have supper at the club with 
me?” asked the colonel. “I like you; you’re just 
the man for my money. I’m generally considered 
cool; but you’re a regular Arctic Circle.” 

“No, thank you!” answered Franklin to this ques- 
tion; “ I’m a little weary. Tann will join you.” 

And Tann did. The two hailed a hansom and rat- 
tled off to the west, while Elliott walked in silent 
meditation to his hotel. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


^ IN WHICH THE TEMPTATION OF ST. ANTHONY IS REVIVED 
FOR OUR hero’s BENEFIT. 

After luncheon on the following day, Franklin 
assumed his most nonchalant air and announced his 
intention of taking a stroll. Sadler generously 
offered his company, but expressed no surprise at 
its non-acceptance, and Elliott went out alone. With 
remarkable precision for a man who is merely out for 
a stroll, he wended his way towards the Arlington 
Mansions, and was ushered into the reception-room 
to await Violet’s arrival. 

He sat in the half-light of the apartment for several 
seconds, when the frou-frou (word beloved of lady 
novelists) of skirts was audible along the passage, and 
she came into the room. She was loosely clad in an 
elegant robe de chambre, a combination of ribbons and 
cloudy lace, which, were we alady,we might dilate upon. 

“You really must excuse my appearance,” she 
said, in hurried confusion; “but I was not certain 
you heard me say you might call, and Mrs. Fanfield 
is out for the afternoon, I think.” 

Violet seated herself in a low chair. Elliott did 
likewise. Both were silent, as though their hearts 
were too full for words. 

Franklin was the first to speak. 

“ I came to see you, not Mrs. Fanfield,” he said, 
gazing at her till the brown eyes which had been 
raised to his drooped. 

His heart was beating at a painful rate and with 
almost audible force. Here was Violet, more like the 
Violet of old; more retiring and more modestly re- 
served than she had recently appeared to his critical 
judgment. Here was the faint blush, lighting up the 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


243 


pale delicate face into indescribable beauty ; suffus- 
ing her countenance with a loving tenderness, all 
purity. She dropped her eyelids as he spoke, and 
the dark lashes swept in a tantalizing curl, before she 
again lifted her glance to meet his. Ah ! what a glance ! 
How her eyes glistened and glowed as the pupils 
enlarged with insuppressible love! How they 
swam in mist o£ affection, and shone with the 
reflected brilliancy of a great passion! Her bosom 
rose and fell fast with the short breaths of emotion, 
and the dimpled arm resting on the table quivered. 

Her heart was too overflowing to be checked, and 
her whole being betrayed that she was shaken in 
every fibre. 

What discretion ever triumphed over such tempta- 
tion? Her beauty seemed heightened, magnified, 
glorified, until she was as if transfigured. Never be- 
fore was so glorious a vision revealed to mortal man ! 

Oh, Sadler, you’re not such a fool after all ! 

Franklin bent down and kissed her hand, and find- 
ing no reproof, threw himself on his knees before her 
and put his arm around her waist, while the words 
flowed fast to his lips in torrents of eloquence. 

“Violet, dear,” he said, “when I first saw you, 
calm and beautiful in the hour of peril, I loved you. 
In your grief and desolation my heart went out to 
you. Ever since I have known you the sentiment 
within me has grown and gathered force like a surg- 
ing breaker, and now the wave has fallen on the 
shore. Violet, I love you! ” 

He drew her closer still, and she hid her face on 
his shoulder. 

“Violet! need I ask?— no! You love me, dearest, 
or you would not trust yourself to me so implicitly.” 

Then she rose arid stood beside him in the encir- 
cling of his right arm, and her head rested against 
his shoulder. He kissed her upturned face again and 
again, and the love-light in her eyes deepened and 
glowed with ever increasing fervor. He experienced 


244 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


a magnetism which he struggled against, but the 
eyes drew him on ; he was well-nigh powerless. He 
reeled and was compelled to rest on the settee. Violet 
knelt by his side and leaned her face on his knee, 
holding his hand all the while. The warmth of her 
grasp caused his nerves to tingle but with a powerful 
effort he recovered himself and spoke again. 

“Violet, your intelligence must have told you that 
I have long been contending against my love. You 
were rich and I poor, your wealth was an obstacle to 
me.” 

She pressed his hand and kissed it. He continued : 

“To render myself superior to such suspicion, I 
have devoted myself to money-making, and thanks 
to a friend’s good advice, I have succeeded. I am 
now rich and can avow I love you for yourself alone.” 

“Dear Franklin!” was Violet’s answer to this, 
and she turned her lips to his to receive his kiss. 

In love, silence is more eloquent than speech; 
neither wished to speak. They sat with their arms 
around each other; hers round his neck and her 
warm cheek close to his. He could almost feel her 
heart beat against his side as she clung to him. She 
sighed contentedly. The clock gave Avarning of the 
flight of time, and Franklin gently rose and put her 
from him. 

“There is only one thing now,” he said; but she 
interrupted him. 

• “Don’t go, Franklin. Mrs. Fanfield Avill not be 
back before six. We have all the time to ourselves; 
let us be happy as Ave Avere.'” 

“ Tann is looking foi' me, 1 suppose,” said Franklin, 
unwilling to leave, all the same. 

“He must do without you, Franklin. Sit Avith me 
longer, I cannot let you go so soon.” She laid her hand 
on his arm and he dropped upon the sofa by her side. 

‘ ‘ What Avere you saying, dearest, Avhen I inter- 
rupted? ” and as she spoke, she pillowed her head on 
his heart again. 


THE a:mericak EAITST. 


245 


He whispered his question into her ear, paving the 
way with a kiss. 

“How long must I wait before I can call you mine?” 

“Ami not yours?” with a dilating of her lovely 
eyes in astonishment. 

“ Of course, Violet; hut not all in all. When wjll 
you become my wife? ” 

Violet clung closer, as if afraid to lose him. “ Im- 
possible ! ” she almost gasped. 

‘ ‘ Impossible ! Why ? ” 

“ It is too late! I am already married.” 

“Married! already married!” he echoed, wildly, 
“and you allowed me to live in ignorance these past 
days ! You allowed me to revive the memories of my 
early love; aye, sought to, knowing that you could 
never be honestly taken to my heart ! ” 

“ Franklin, forgive me! I loved you then as now. 
They deceived me.” 

“ They! who are they? ” he demanded, sternly. 

“ They — your friends.” 

“Belle and Jack Harper? ” 

“Yes.” 

“Jack Harper! The double-faced villain! What 
could have been his motive? Not that he — ” 

“Yes, he is my husband. I married him in 
despair at your cruel silence. I was deluded; I 
learned you loved me still and I am here.” 

“ Where is he? Why have you left him? ” 

“Franklin, can you ask? Is he to blast our lives? 
I have left him for you ; for you I forget the esteem 
of friends and barter the world’s opinion in exchange 
for love.” She flung her arms around his neck. 

Franklin was livid with astonishment ; lie attempted 
to speak, but she prettily placed a hand over his 
mouth and stayed his speech. Then came the inivard 
tempter. Why not? His friend’s wife! But why 
be tethered in an irksome bond, when this fairest of 
creatures who rested against his heart, herself repu- 
diated the bondage? His love, his real love was slain, 


246 


THE AMEEICAK FAUST. 


and his true, manly heart was bruised. Yes; but she 
would not let him think of that. No remonstrance 
could he utter; she kissed the reproaches from his 
lips, and held him in the encircling of her warm 
white arms. Passion battled against the sorrow of 
his ideal slain, and the memory of what he had 
deemed her faded into indistinctness before the 
glamour cast over him by her present fascination. 
Still he remained steeled against her, till in a fit of rage 
she pushed him from her and burst into tears. Oh, 
crowning artifice of woman! He needs must, poor 
fool ! console her ; he needs must kiss the tears away 
from her eyes and put his arms around the supple 
form. He knelt beside her, soothing her and endeavor- 
ing to call back the smiles to her face, and he suc- 
ceeded. She lifted her eyes to his, and though her 
lashes were bedewed with tears, gave him a tender 
glance. His head swam and his arms closed around 
her yet tighter; she was conquering — as Cleopatra 
might have done. Her breath fanned his face, 
and the great simoon of passion passed through 
his soul, parching and blasting the remnants of 
self-respect with his belief in the existence of ideal 
woman. Sharp and agonizing was the struggle, and 
the w'oman knew the victory at hand. 

He set his teeth in the last effort ; but, with a sigh 
his heart seemed to burst— he was surrendering him- 
self, when — 

The pole stretched across the embrasure of a bay- 
window, a heavy brass pole, hung with thick 
tapestry, came down with a crash to the fioor, and 
the curtains were piled high above a form beneath I 

Elliott rushed toward the intruder, while Miss 
Woods ground her teeth with anger. Franklin lifted 
the tapestry and nothing was beneath ! Close by, on 
the fioor, was a hat he knew only too well ; it was 
Tann’s. He gazed at this damning evidence of the 
infernal presence, and a light seemed to break in upon 
him ; the thoughts, the inferences of that diabolical 




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THE AMERICAK FAUST. 


247 


supervision, chased each other in quick succession 
through his brain. A soft arm was thrown around 
him, hut now he was superior to such influences. A 
low voice whispered words of endearment in his ear, 
but he was deaf. He struggled to be free, and still 
she persisted; until in his rage he hurled her from 
him. But with an impulse to save her from falling he 
clutched quickly at her dress, and the loose robes, 
tearing at the throat, came away, exposing the 
smooth, unblemished shoulder. 

Without stopping to collect himself, without prior 
deliberation, his eyes sought the scar from the cruel 
wound inflicted at the Are, which should have marred 
the whiteness of the skin. It was not there ! 

As she lay prostrate at his feet, a horrid change 
came over her. As if the workings of his mind were 
clear to her understanding, a look of baffled vicious- 
ness overspread the beautiful features — a transforma- 
tion quicker than any words can describe. 

The hair thrown hack, revealed a forehead wrin- 
kled into black lines of passion ; the eyes blazed like 
hot coals, and protruded with the impulse of hatred 
from the sockets; the teeth were set and gleamed 
malignantly from the parted, hvid lips; the throat 
swelled and the tendons stood out like cords from the 
neck. The metamorphosis was horrifying. There 
blazed forth the corrupted soul, aflame with the glare 
of overwhelming passions and sins. 

Franklin’s temper always sank to the depths of 
frigidity in the proportion as his opponent raged into 
fervency of anger; so he smiled, and said, 

“Good afternoon! Hemember me kindly to Mrs. 
Fanfleld.” And he bowed himself out with almost 
exaggerated politeness. 

Two days afterward, one of the Arlington Mansions 
was “To Let.” 


CHAPTER XX. 


IN WHICH SADLER A. TAKES LEAVE OF THIS MORTAL 
SPHERE. 

How our poor devil suffered! He had played as 
intricate a game of chess as was possible ; had gone 
almost through to the end without flaw or mistake; 
had given mate with his queen and the next move 
would have been check — and had irretrievably ruined 
all by upsetting the board and scattering his pieces. 
There was no retrieving : no reopening of the game. 
Franklin would not again risk defeat. Sadler had 
never ceased gnashing his teeth in impotent rage since 
the curtain pole had struck him and razed him to 
the ground beneath a pile of curtains. 

“ I’m a fool,” he told himself over and over again; 
“fooH” He cried. Can devils cry? They can; the 
tears trickled down his sallow face and he sobbed 
with vexation, knowing what he had lost. 

Nothing but the fear of making a scene had re- 
strained him from tearing his hair and rending his 
tweed suit in the street. Now he was in a room out 
of public gaze; and he raved and stamped, and 
hurled himself from wall to wall, from chair to floor, 
from table to ceiling, with an evident desire to take 
it out of something. AU Franklin’s efforts at sooth- 
ing him were fruitless. He blanked himself to 
every stage of perdition, from the topmost pit to the 
uttermost depths, and deeper still. He called down 
new and indescribable tortures upon his own close- 
cropped head, and, at last, his corporeal presence, 
bruised and battered in every square inch, fell 
exhausted from the ceiling to the bed. On that feath- 
ery resting-place he wept like a child, with a con- 
summate abandon, and that sharp catching of the 


THE AMERICAN EAUST. 


249 


breath and the bursting of sobs from a pent-up 
heart, indicative of a grief which cannot be con- 
trolled. 

Franklin saved one chair from his wrecking endeav- 
ors, and in it he watched Tann’s performance of un- 
paralleled acrobatic feats. When Sadler, worn and 
spent, grieved in comparative quietude on the bed, 
Franklin addressed him : 

“I can understand your feelings in the matter, 
Tann. I had no idea you possessed so many resour- 
ces. It was a great stroke of genius, finding this beau- 
tiful paste imitation of the real diamond. I was 
almost deceived.” 

“You were, quite!” howled Tann, in piteous ac- 
cents, and he started on himself again. He propelled 
himself into mid-air and dropped with his full weight 
upon the chandelier, where he remained hanging and 
uttering blood-curdling imprecations. 

When he was again calm, Elliott requested him to 
make a clean breast of everything ; and Tann, know- 
ing further deception to be fruitless, began his con- 
fession with an attack on his friend. 

“ You are more trouble than you are worth. Ever 
since I set foot on terra firma, I have been working 
away at you with every artifice, with every ounce of 
strength at my disposal, and with what effect? 
None! The worst of it is, you’re not an ascetic or 
anchorite, or one of those fellows who achieve future 
happiness by present misery. No ! you are having a 
pretty good time on earth, and since I’ve been with 
you, you have increased your chances for a like good 
time in the hereafter. You enjoy life; you smoke 
the best cigars in the market ; you drink in satisfac- 
tory moderation ; you play cards and go to the races ; 
you attend theatres, concerts, hops, conversaziones 
and every abode of amusement ; and, although you 
don’t show it, you’re happy. I know you are. To 
every assault of mine, to every hint on the advisa- 
bility of going it, lo racket and the like, you return 


250 


THE AMERICA K FAUST. 


me an argument which has by this time grown stale 
and tedious to my ears.” 

“ But none the less convincing,” put in Franklin. 

“You meet me at every turn with the annoying 
taunt that, although I’m the bane, I’m the antidote as 
well. You tell me that mine is the hand that bridges 
the pitfalls which engulf others, and that my angelic 
face is ever present to keep you from going astray. It 
would appear that I came to earth, a devil, and I’ve 
been doing the work of an angel.” 

“ Good old Sadler! ” said the other sympathetically. 

“ I’m too used to your sarcasm now to feel it. Oh ! 
I’m sick of the whole business. I’m sick of pretend- 
ing to be an American and of assuming a dialect 
which I’m not in the habit of wearing. I’m weary 
of saying ‘ I guess’ and ‘ you bet your sweet life,’ for 
the purpose of deceiving outsiders as to my nation- 
ality ; and I’m dead tired of man’s superior wicked- 
ness, and I want to go back to hell.” 

“ Best place for you,” commented Elliott. 

“ My terrestrial sojourn has been marked by a long 
series of mistakes and disasters. I’ve been burned, 
and drowned, and garotted, and kicked, and ill-used 
in every conceivable way by man or men. I at- 
tempted to apply the methods of the fifteenth cen- 
tury to the nineteenth and I’ve made a fizzle of it.” 

“That’s so!” agreed Franklin. “It pains me to 
have to coincide with you, but it is.” 

Sadler pressed his aching brow convulsively and 
fought hard against the childish sobs of avowed fail- 
ure, while the pendulum of the clock on the mantel 
oscillated from one side to the other exactly six 
times. At last he looked up, and said, with evident 
shame crimsoning his saffron-hued visage, 

* “ Now for my confession ! ” 

Franklin metaphorically pricked up his ears, as 
Tann, with the blush of conscious guilt, declared 
his violation of the rules of etiquette and chiv- 
alry. 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


251 


“Franklin, you may smile derisively, when I say 
that I, the arch-devil, am ashamed of myself. Scores 
of your fellow-men ignore their offences until they 
are revealed to public obloquy: but I have suffered 
remorse from the very beginning of my course of 
dishonor. I always strove to be a gentleman, and 
the necessity of swerving from the course consistent 
with gentlemanly behavior hurt me; it did indeed! 
And, Franklin, it was out of love for you. It was, 
so help me! I wished to grapple you to me with 
hooks of steel. ” 

“ All right,” interrupted Elliott, “ get on! Get on! ” 

Sadler sighed, and commenced his confession in 
real earnest. 

“You wrote to Miss Violet Woods, care of Mr. 
Peter G. Woods, Fifth Avenue, New York, U. S. ; did 
you not? ” 

“About six letters, I think,” said Franklin. 

“ Not one of them ever reached its destination,” 

Elliott was silent, waiting for the self-accusation. 

“I,” stated S. A., “abstracted them from the letter 
boxes in which they were posted.” 

“You infernal scoundrel!” muttered Elliott be- 
tween his teeth. 

“ Again you received several letters from her, and 
from her friends with regard to her.” 

“ Never ! ” said Franklin, with a touch of excitement. 

“I mean to say that letters came for you, which 
you never received. I invariably purloined them 
from the office.” 

This last item overpowered Franklin. “And did 
you dare read them? ” 

“Everyone!” 

Sadler bowed his head, and stood before him the 
picture of dejection and shamefacedness. He evi- 
dently expected to be felled to the floor, but though 
the hand was raised, the blow never came. 

Franklin calmed himself, and curtly ordered his 
companion to, “Goon.” 


252 


THE AMERICAN- FAUST, 


“ I despise my actions as much as ever you can. I 
feel I am no longer fit company for a gentleman. I 
admit all this because my mind is in a state of frenzy, 
which leads me to avow that I don’t care a con- 
tinental whether you go to heaven or hades. If any- 
thing, I prefer you to be out . of my establishment ; it 
wouldn’t be comfortable with the two of us. You’d 
have the place reformed in about a week, and would 
demonstrate, by pro and con, that it was just as easy 
for a devil to jog along in a condition of virtuous 
mediocrity, as to tempt others to a misery which does 
not alleviate his personal suffering.” 

“ You bet your life I would ! ” 

“ That’s where our contract is unsatisfactory. If I 
import you free of duty, and you are not a sinner in 
an aggravated sense, you would have an infiuence in 
Pandemonium which I should be powerless to coun- 
teract. Then, again, there is a coolness, a something 
in you which commands respect and compels affec- 
tion. I love you. I do, Franklin.” 

The poor devil cried with emotion. “And if you 
could have come to us sodden with crime and black- 
ened to a degree with guilt, all would have been well ; 
but I couldn’t work even the first step of your down- 
fall. I thought my last plan a beauty, and it was ! 
Once get a man into the power of a bad woman and 
every crime is feasible. Embezzlement, and even 
murder are then easy of accomplishment ; and when 
I think of the glorious creature I employed I Oh, I’m 
mad with myself. I’ve failed, and it’s my own fault ! ” 

“Who is this woman?” asked Elliott, sternly. 

“She was originally the Witch of Endor. We kept 
her specially for that line of temptation,” answered 
Tann. ‘ ‘ To-morrow London will be ringing with stories 
of her disappearance ; maybe the river will be dragged. 
Mrs. Fanfield, who is mortal, will be ignorant of her 
whereabouts. A nine days’ wonder ! and then — 
another incident consigned to oblivion.” 

This last statement restored happiness to Franklin’s 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


253 


mind and re-established his ideal on a firmer founda- 
tion than before. No more doubts as to her worthi- 
ness now ; many, however, of her willingness. 

“Well!” said Tann, with a sigh, drawing a paper 
from his pocket, “here is the contract. I give it 
back to you and thus renounce all legal claims to 
your soul.” 

“ Keep it,” said Elliott, “ I don’t want it.” 

“You’d better take it. We’ve finished with each 
other; the bargain’s off.” 

“All right! But I don’t care about the document, 
although your autograph has a certain value.” 

“ But I might wish to hold you to it.” 

“I should refuse to be held by such an agreement; 
it is not worth the paper it’s written on.” 

“What!!!!?” 

“If you went into a court of law, and in bodily 
presence declared yourself to be the devil, any 
modern jury of average intelligence would consider 
you insane. Besides, the document isn’t drawn up in 
any kind of legal form ; and, in short, you haven’t a 
leg to stand on.” 

“What?” 

“ Not a leg!” 

“ Do you wish me to understand that you drew up 
this agreement, knowing all the time that you did not 
intend to abide by it? ” 

“You have expressed my views admirably,” said 
Franklin, coolly. 

“ And you have the face to tell me this— me, Sadler 
A. Tann? ” 

“ Certainly.” 

“ Tu quoque, Brute,"''' quoted Tann, sadly. “Verily 
have I lost all faith in goodness and veracity. I 
believed in you, Franklin, and you have deceived 
me.” And Sadler wept. 

“Nonsense, old man,” laughed Elliott; “I’ll ex- 
plain. To start with, in business matters, the whole 
aim is to get the best of a contract or agreement. 


254 


THE AMERICAN EAUST. 


I’ve done it. Then again you have acted neither up 
to the spirit nor the letter of your side of it ; you have 
been putting up jobs on me in utter variance with 
my desires ; that, in itself, constituted grounds for a 
dissolution of partnership. Another consideration 
which should soften the blow, is that you’ve gained a 
quantity of useful experience. If you ever return to 
earth—” 

“Never again,” interposed S. A. Tann, emphati- 
cally. 

“ You’ll know the ropes better,” concluded Frank- 
lin, not heeding the interruption. 

“You are a shufider. You are worse than Faust.” 

“ Undoubtedly, with the exception that I haven’t 
the ruin of an innocent girl to lay to my charge, nor 
the delicious consciousness of a murder. I don’t like 
to rub salt into your wounds, Tann, but I’m not 
sampling the ^facilis descensus ’ just at present. Oh, 
you’ve been beautifully fooled ! ” 

“No wonder! One of our immigrants told me 
never to do business with a Yankee. Why didn’t I 
take his advice? He said theyld swindle the very 
devil; and they’ve done it. I might have known it.” 

Franklin smiled at this tribute to his business 
capacities. 

“Before leaving,” said Sadler, in conclusion, “I 
want to ask you how you are going to live.” 

“In style,” replied Franklin. 

“ You have no money.” 

“Comparatively none! A trifle of half a million 
dollars, that’s all.” 

“But it is accursed, it is hell-money; the price of 
a soul which has obtained the coin under false pre- 
tences.” 

“Pardon me, it is the result of honest speculation, 
inspired by Sadler A. Tann.” 

“Damnation! ” muttered the demon. 

“ Not for me! ” 

“ It’s all over then?” asked Tann. 


THE AMEKICAH FAUST. 


255 


“Completely.” 

“ Good by, Franklin! ” 

“Good-by, Tann. I shall always remember you 
as one of the bright spots of my existence, believe me. 
I am slow to forget a friend ; although I never let 
friendship interfere with business.” 

“ Quite fright I Good-by — one moment, Franklin, I 
have a favor to ask you. Don’t give me away to the 
‘ boys.’ Don’t let them know what a fool I’ve been.” 

“ Tann, when I tell you that a book embodying our 
experiences would be regarded in the light of a fairy- 
tale, your apprehensions must vanish. The ‘boys’ 
will not deride you.” 

“ You refuse my last request? ” 

“ I won’t commit myself one way or another.” 

“Then the book shall be a rank failure. The crit- 
ics shall tear it into infinitesimal rags, and the public 
shall refuse to buy it.” 

“Very well!” 

“Good-by, then, forever and aye! If in the 
dim eternity our ways lie together, which Heaven for 
iJid— ” 

“ Good-by, Tann, not au revoir! ” 

They shook hands, and Sadler, in the angry mortifi- 
cation of discomfiture, left the marks of his fingers, 
burnt into Franklin’s hand. These marks are notice- 
able only when one knows of their existence. 

Tann gave his faithless friend one last lingering 
look, as though to indelibly fix his image on his 
(Tann’s) immortal memory; the modern clothes fell 
from him, and he stood there in his old Mephistophe- 
lian costume. 

Then, like an image thrown upon the wall from a 
magic lantern, drawing farther and farther away, he 
grew larger and larger, dimmer and dimmer and 
finally faded into a vague shapeless fire-tinted mist, 
which cleared away imperceptibly, till nothing more 
was discernible. 

This occurred between the hours of five and six on 


256 


THE AMERICAN FAUST. 


Wednesday afternoon, October 18, 188—, Tan n hav- 
ing sojourned with Franklin Elliott from the 13th of 
April of the same year. 

What remains to be told can be disposed of very 
briefly, and shall be. Were it not that we have 
already indulged in one or more offers of marriage, 
we would with pleasure inform the reader how 
Franklin behaved on a similar occasion ; how he drew 
her head on his shoulder and kissed her sweet lips, 
thinking the while of the “ other” who had, unsolic- 
ited, subjected him to the same treatment. Ah ! — Oh ! 
But we mustn’t. 

Dear peruser, do you know Franklin Elliott? Look 
out for the imprint of the Satanic fingers, and when 
you have found it, you have our hero. Look out for 
the wife— the woman who has not even one detractor, 
and it’s quite possible Mrs. Elliott will reward your 
search. 

We were once in love with her ourselves, but 
Franklin — well, perhaps the only girl we ever loved 
would not hke us to say how long that “once” 
endured. 

Anybody else who may at a future date write a 
story anent Satan visiting earth, will be foisting an 
unwarrantable falsehood on the public, for Sadler 
assured Franklin, with his own lips, that he would 
never again run chances of being duped by a mortal, 
and that of all brands of nationality, ‘ No American 
need apply.’ 

They— Mr. and Mrs. Elliott — own a beautiful brown- 
stone residence on the upper part of Fifth Avenue; 
and, in addition, possess a villa on the Hudson, to say 
nothing of other occasional tenures, and a family of 
three, the eldest of the two being named after us— or, 
as we’re at the end — me. Jack Harper. 

In the spacious vestibule of the Fifth Avenue man- 
sion is a large painting; a life size portrait from 
memory, of Elliott’s only immortal friend, Sadler A. 
Tann. 













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